


cure

by letfelicitysoar



Category: Infinite (Band)
Genre: M/M, OT7, lil bit of hojong too, not enough dongwoo, slight wooyeol and gyuyeol but whatever
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-15
Updated: 2015-06-16
Packaged: 2018-02-21 06:26:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 23,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2458178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/letfelicitysoar/pseuds/letfelicitysoar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sungyeol thinks there is no cure for insanity but Myungsoo is willing to prove him wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> chaptered sequel to [there is no cure for insanity](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2458166)

He’s standing over the boy, blood trailing down his pale arms in crimson drops. Each splash to the floor is like a flower blooming and before Sungyeol can even recall what’s happening, he’s reaching outwards and touching cold flesh. As soon as his skin meets the other’s, there’s this burning sensation being injected into his veins and he can feel the heat run throughout his body and it causes a sudden urge of anger to erupt within his system. He’s never felt this angry before but it’s better described as blind rage because Sungyeol isn’t sure why he feels like this. 

The boy’s body is lifeless almost, there’s the slight rise and fall of his shoulders if you squint your eyes close enough. Sungyeol knows, he knows that he’s the one who’s done this, caused the purple bruises to stain that beautiful skin and those red scars which burn even brighter than the fury within Sungyeol’s body. The laugh which escapes his lips is close to cynical, but it’s so sad. Such a sad and dying laugh which makes Sungyeol feel sick but feel so good. He grips the scarlet stained knife in his hand and wonders when did that get there? It doesn’t matter though, not when he’s pressing it against the bare back of the boy and pushing just hard enough so that the tip of the steel blade penetrates the soft skin. 

His body must be numb to the feel already, because he doesn’t react as Sungyeol drags the knife across bruised shoulder blades and curves it into an intricate design. He’s given the boy little wings. Little blood red wings for the fallen angel who’s going to spend the remainder of his days in hell. 

And then the rage just seems to vanish. It’s gone after Sungyeol pulls the knife back. 

“Look at how pretty I’ve made you…” 

Sungyeol doesn’t recognize the husky voice that’s laden with sickening affection, but he realizes that no one except him and the boy are there. He knows that he’s hearing himself speak. 

“You’re mine forever, princess…”

—-

Cold water splashes down the backside of Sungyeol’s shirt and he’s screaming helplessly as bright lights fill his vision and his arms flail about and smack Woohyun’s unguarded face.

“Ow! Christ! Calm down, Yeol!” 

It only takes a few blinks for Sungyeol to realize he’s in the usual break room, Howon and Sungjong sitting at the table beside his and Woohyun standing behind him with an empty glass in his hand. 

“Nightmare?” Sungjong asks, his eyebrows raised in genuine concern, which is rare for the younger to show. 

“Something like that,” Sungyeol admits, but doesn’t want to get into it. “I’m wet. Why am I wet?” 

“Maybe you peed yourself,” Howon chuckles and goes back to reading his book, clearly done with the conversation as a whole. 

So Sungyeol doesn’t respond to that because how does one pee cold urine onto their back? Instead it’s Woohyun who offers him solace, “You wouldn’t wake up so I dumped ice water on you.” 

“You know there’s more gracious ways of waking people up, right?” Sungyeol pats his back which is wet and soggy. 

“I know,” Woohyun shines with a smile, “Maybe you should go home?” 

“Unfair!” Sungjong interrupts, “Hyung can’t get to nap half the day and then get to go home early.” 

Woohyun only purses his lips at the younger and Sungyeol is going to say he’s willing to stay the rest of his shift anyways, but then Woohyun slides his hand onto Sungyeol’s shoulder.

“Just go home. Take it easy there and sleep all you like.” It sounds like real concern to Sungyeol and his heart could almost melt at how nice Woohyun is being to him right now except that the older suddenly chuckles, “You’ll probably do more damage here anyways with your flying arms and girlish shrieks.” 

So home it is then. 

—-

Being at home usually does one of two things for Sungyeol as of recently. 

Either he’s relaxed and getting rest or he’s anxious and paranoid. 

Right now, it’s the latter of the two, much to Sungyeol’s dismay. 

He doesn’t know why or when he started to feel the anxiety seep into his bones, but it’s there and suddenly every little ‘thump’ or flicker of light causes him to jump out of his socks and run for his bedroom. He feels somewhat safe there, at least whatever’s haunting him can’t reach him under his pororo sheets. That’s what he thinks at least, but being under your covers only makes you more vulnerable to whatever is waiting outside the door for you. 

When he gets home that evening though, there’s the lingering feeling that someone has been following him for a while now but he tries to brush it off by telling himself he’s just tired from all the late shifts he’s been taking to make up for getting to go home so often lately. Both Sunggyu and Woohyun have been strange around him - making him go home early on certain days and constantly checking up on him. Sunggyu’s even gone as far as having Dongwoo spend most of his time staying by Sungyeol’s side. A small part of Sungyeol wonders why they’re acting like this, but the other parts of him already know why. 

He’s slowly deteriorating, he’s falling apart seam by seam and there doesn’t seem to be anyone around who can mend the pulled out threads. If only Sungyeol could figure out who’s pulling them out anyways. Then again, he thinks he knows the answer to that too. He just wants to play ignorant and maybe all his problems will go away that way. 

There’s a blackout that night in his building and so Sungyeol stays wrapped in five blankets and he can’t see a thing both under and out of his blankets anyways so maybe the dark isn’t so bad. If only he didn’t have the feeling that he was definitely not alone in his room. 

He calls Woohyun under his covers and the other doesn’t pick up so Sungyeol calls and calls again and suddenly the lights turn back on and he realizes he’s all alone.

Sungyeol feels like he’s really losing his mind now.

—-

“What’s this?” 

Sunggyu’s holding a white envelope in his hand, neatly written hangul on the cover. 

“Well sir-” Sungyeol stops and swallows hard. It’s always difficult to speak to Sunggyu when he’s giving you that intense glare which makes him look fifty years older. “I’m resigning.” 

Sungjong who’s sitting next to Sungyeol suddenly drops his spoon and looks at the older as if he’s joking. Which he prays Sungyeol is. 

“And why the hell do you think I’d just accept this?” Sunggyu asks. The urge to rip the envelope into shreds is building up but he knows he should give Sungyeol a chance to give some bullshit excuse before lecturing him and sending him to clean bed sheets for the rest of the month.

He hesitates though, fingers gripping tightly around the handle of his mug. “I’m not fit for this job anymore…” 

“Hyung,” Sungjong exasperates by his side, “What are you saying? You’re the best in your section!” 

But Sungyeol only looks up at Sunggyu who seems taller right now from his standing point and Sungyeol’s sitting position. He can’t read what Sunggyu’s thinking right now, but he can tell that Sunggyu can’t read him either. 

“You all know,” Sungyeol chews the inside of his cheek, “I haven’t been… Well, I haven’t been okay.” 

Something flickers across Sunggyu’s face. Sungyeol catches it immediately though before it disappears; the look of recognition. 

“Sungyeol, you just need sleep and you’ll be fine.” It’s a try at soothing him. Sunggyu’s trying to give Sungyeol more time to think this decision over, but Sungyeol’s had all the thinking he can get.

“I don’t need sleep,” Sungyeol says, his voice becoming hard. “It’s when I’m asleep that I’m most definitely not okay! Actually, awake or asleep, I’m not okay. I can’t- I’m not well enough to be taking care of sick people when I myself am becoming sick. Don’t you understand? If I stay here, I’m just a burden to you and Sungjong and everyone and I hardly work now too and I feel so useless and I’m just not okay with that and I’m not okay at all!” 

The words roll off his tongue so easily and maybe he’s been waiting to tell someone he hasn’t been okay for weeks - months now, but everyone around him just keeps on saying the same thing over and over again.

“Get rest.”

“You’re fine.”

“Just take the day off and you’ll get better.”

“Time is healing.”

But they’re all wrong. Time isn’t healing and Sungyeol hasn’t healed. 

Maybe they just say those things to make Sungyeol look and feel okay. Maybe they say those things to make themselves look and feel okay. Either way, Sungyeol can’t stay here anymore.

He doesn’t even realize he’s crying. “I’m sorry,” the words are hiccuped out and Sungyeol can’t tell that the moisture falling into his coffee mug is his own tears. 

Sungjong wraps both his arms around Sungyeol and repeatedly tells him “it’s okay” and Sungyeol wants to scream that it isn’t. That that’s what he’s trying to say, but he knows that Sungjong means it’s okay for him to go and it actually is okay this time.

Sungyeol’s resignation letter is crumpled in Sunggyu’s fist as he grits his teeth and then loosens his jaw slightly only to say, “Clear out your locker.” 

—-

The boy’s face is like a porcelain doll.

White, small, and beautiful. 

Sungyeol’s entranced by it, mesmerized by how pretty and perfectly sculpted the boy’s face is. So so so very pretty. He wants to touch it, to dig his fingernails into it and pull at the milky skin until it rips off and exposes the disgusting filth under it. 

His fingers find the boy’s neck instead though and almost like gripping a coffee mug, he’s wrapping hands onto that slender neck. 

There’s no sign of emotion on the boy’s face, just a blank stare with black eyes that have no emotion swimming in them. That’s a look Sungyeol thinks he could fall in love with over and over again. 

At least that’s what he thinks until the boy lets out a choking sound and his face contorts in pain and Sungyeol revels in the feeling. He feels satisfied and disturbingly pleased by strangling the boy, the tighter he grips, the louder the boy cries out. Something about it makes him feel powerful, strong, and in charge. As if he’s royalty and this boy is nothing more but pure trash in his wake. 

He looks even more beautiful screaming in agony than he does with those dead eyes. 

—-

Woohyun visits often, followed by Sungjong and Dongwoo with the occasional drop by from Howon. Sunggyu doesn’t visit at all, but Woohyun informs Sungyeol that; “He calls me into his office like every week to ask me how you’re doing. I don’t understand why he doesn’t get his lazy self over here himself.” 

“He’s just busy,” is what Dongwoo says, but Sungyeol thinks otherwise.

He’s pretty sure Sunggyu hates him now and never wants to see him ever again and Sungyeol wouldn’t hold it against him either. He did yell at the other afterall. 

“I can’t believe he just let you go like that though,” Sungjong sighs and then looks over at Woohyun. “If you were the director, would you just let Sungyeol hyung resign?” 

It’s almost like a given for Woohyun to laugh at that, “Jongie, I would have fired his sorry ass a long time ago. It’s Sungyeol’s decision to resign anyways, I wouldn’t have stopped him or asked for a reason.” 

“Really?” Sungyeol asks, he thinks that with Woohyun’s motherly attitude towards him as of late, the other wouldn’t have let him off so easily. It did surprise him though, when he’d heard of how Woohyun took the news of his departure so nonchalantly. As if Woohyun didn’t care that one of his closest friends was dealing with a major life crisis. 

“Really.” Woohyun confirms and then smiles, “Dongwoo’s a handful already.”

“Hey!” Dongwoo pouts and crosses his arms which makes Sungyeol chuckle and playfully ruffle his hyung’s hair.

“Well, I gotta give you credit for that one.” Sungyeol nods in understanding which only further upsets Dongwoo. 

It’s these little visits by his old co-workers which somehow keeps Sungyeol grounded, other than that though, he spends his days reading self help books and googling up ways to stay sane. 

And it’s not like he actually is going insane, he just can’t get the feeling that someone is watching him to go away.

That and the nightmares constantly picking away at his sleep every time he closes his eyes. It’s enough to drive him off the edge to insomnia. 

Everything all starts to piece itself together though when he quickly steps out one night to buy milk from the twenty-four hour convenience store down the street and is met with a chilling shock down his spine.

Worse than that is the switchblade lodged in his shoulder. 


	2. Chapter 2

Little white clovers weaved into a crown and placed gently onto his ivory black hair. Sungyeol thinks the boy looks much more ethereal like this, smiling until his eyes disappear into crescents and something is so innocent and beautiful about it all. He looks so peaceful and gentle, like the most perfect and untouched human being ever. 

“You’re so pretty, my princess.” 

Adoration runs deep in Sungyeol’s chest and he can’t stop admiring the adorable child in front of him, playing on the soft green patches of clovers and giggling as if there isn’t a care in the world.

“Am I really?” His voice is tiny, almost nonexistent and yet it’s so smooth in Sungyeol’s ears. 

He pulls the boy closer to him and places a chaste kiss on his forehead before resting his chin on the boy’s head of dark hair, “The prettiest.” 

Tears could form in Sungyeol’s eyes from how real this feels. The warmth of the afternoon sun and the smell of sweet flowers are so real that Sungyeol wishes he could stay here forever with the boy in his arms and the birds singing them a love song. 

But it shatters like heated glass in cold water when the boy turns to Sungyeol and straddles his lap, eyes suddenly becoming a black abyss of nothing. The birds stop singing, the sun hides behind gloomy clouds, and the flowers wilt to broken ashes. 

His mouth moves slowly and only one word comes out;

“Liar.” 

—-

“Hyung?” Sungyeol hears immediately and when he opens his eyes, there’s the familiar blinding hospital lights and he knows where he’s at.

It isn’t the place that he’s worked at for the last three years, but he knows that most places like this are all built the same and have that usual dreariness which lingers and clings onto everything within a thirty feet radius. The walls are a dirtied white and the same applies for the bed sheets and wooden tile flooring. Everything’s white, but not pure white. It’s like a joke on how hospitals are supposed to be sanitary when in reality they can wear down and become old like everything else in the world. 

“Hyung, can you hear me?” 

Sungyeol has to pry his half opened eyes from the IV drip that’s been momentarily paused to look over at Sungjong’s drained face as the younger male sits closer to him than usual. The dewy softness to Sungjong’s face is missing and Sungyeol feels guilty because he knows he’s the cause for that pale and dried exterior to form on his precious dongsaeng’s face. 

“Yeah,” Sungyeol croaks out after a few moments and something in his throat feels dry and sticky, like when your hands are wet and sand clings to it so it becomes somewhat dry.

“How’re you feeling?” Sungjong asks. Sungyeol can see the usual uncaring eyes scan his face incase Sungyeol decides to lie or something, which is stupid because Sungyeol doesn’t feel inclined to lie to Sungjong. 

But then he possibly might.

“I’m fine.” It’s somewhat the truth, but honestly, Sungyeol wants that IV drip to start again because he feels so dry.

“That’s good then,” Sungjong forces himself to smile the tiniest bit, “You’ve been knocked out for nearly nineteen hours straight.” 

“I think that’s a record. I’ve never slept that late before, even when I’ve-” 

“Hyung,” Sungjong sighs and it comes out very tired and long, “Please no jokes right now or sides of some dark humor because I think I’ve won the record for least amount of sleep these last few hours.” 

Sungyeol wants to chuckle at that, but all he can manage right now is a wry smile. “Well then how long you been here?” 

“I came around two am then left for work, I just got here again around an hour ago.” 

“Two am?” Sungyeol furrows his brow, “What exactly happened to me again?” He knows part of the answer but right now his logical brain needs to hear it from someone other than himself or else he’ll have a hard time believing it ever happened.

The younger purses his lips but decides to speak after thinking it over in his head (Sungyeol remembers that that’s what they do to patients when they contemplate telling them something possibly hurtful… Or when they decide to lie), “Well, I’m not exactly sure but I got a call from Woohyun hyung around one-thirty and that’s when I rushed over here. The doctor says you were bleeding out in an alley and I mean it wasn’t like you got stabbed that badly, but you did lose a lot of blood because you had been left unconscious for over two hours so…”

“So?” Sungyeol watches as Sungjong continues to collect his thoughts and select his words.

“So I came over here. You have a minor stab wound to the shoulder and a few bruises surrounding it… Almost as if…” Sungjong’s eyes flicker over at Sungyeol’s injured shoulder before he continues, “It’s like someone was pressing their hands roughly against the stab wound and was trying to get as much blood out of it as possible.”

His brain has to register the fact that Sungjong thinks someone was trying to squeeze blood out of Sungyeol like lemonade, but if they wanted to get as much blood out of him as possible then his attacker could have just stabbed him some more or stabbed him in a more vital area and be done with it. The two of them can easily understand what it means though; whoever had done this didn’t want to kill Sungyeol, they just wanted to hurt him as much as they could and as quickly as they could.

“Who found me?” Sungyeol decides to ask after a good couple of minutes pass in silence.

“A worker from the convenience store, he was on his way home and passed by and saw the blood. I wouldn’t be surprised if you got anemia from this whole thing, don’t worry though. The doctor said you should be able to go home tomorrow.” 

“And Woohyun?”

“I sent him home, he’s been here all day, he was starting to stink up the place.” 

Sungyeol smiles again because that all sounds about right. 

“I’m gonna go call the doctor now,” Sungjong stands from his seat, “Be good and don’t run off on your own or anything, alright?” 

“Can’t promise anything, sorry Jongie.” 

The other only rolls his eyes but he looks ten times relieved when he leaves the room. It’s something of a unspoken gift from Sungjong, giving Sungyeol an explanation that he knows no doctor would give and also allowing him a bit of time to be alone and register the fact that some psycho is out there stabbing lanky unemployed young males who need milk in the middle of the night. 

Sungyeol looks over at the empty bag of blood hanging beside the IV fluids and he had already figured this out, but it’s nice to confirm it sometimes.

The donor’s name is printed neatly on the bag and it’s just so like him that Sungyeol feels the need to sigh dramatically. He’ll have to thank him later and it’ll just only add onto his pride and Sungyeol wishes he and Woohyun weren’t both blood type B. 

—-

It’s the first time in weeks that Sunggyu’s decided to visit Sungyeol and honestly, Sungyeol wishes his former boss wouldn’t because he can already hear Sunggyu’s nagging voice in his head.

“Who told you to go out so late at night?”

“Don’t you know how dangerous it is to be taking dark, creepy alleys as shortcuts?” 

“Was the milk worth it Lee Sungyeol. Was it?” 

Honestly it wasn’t.

But when Sunggyu steps into his bedroom while trailing behind Woohyun and Dongwoo, he doesn’t expect Sunggyu to look so blank and to be so quiet. 

Dongwoo on the other hand is a sobbing mess and nearly causes Sungyeol’s wound to open up as he hugs the life out of him. Woohyun’s his usual self though, smiling and picking fun at Sungyeol’s misfortune while milking out all the possible thanks he can get from donating his own blood to let Sungyeol live for another hundred years because Woohyun’s blood and sweat is apparently equivalent to holy water. 

“Hey,” Sungyeol finally gets to say to Sunggyu once Dongwoo’s crying has calmed down. He isn’t sure how to address Sunggyu anymore because ‘sir’ would be too formal and ‘hyung’ just sounds way too strange. 

“Hey,” Sunggyu says back but he doesn’t make any movement closer towards Sungyeol, he only remains feet away behind both Dongwoo and Woohyun. 

Sungyeol understands that, he gets why Sunggyu doesn’t want to be close to him. It only kind of hurts because for some reason, the only logical explanation Sungyeol is willing himself to indulge in right now is I’m a freak and Sunggyu doesn’t want to catch my idiocy. 

Sunggyu doesn’t say another thing to Sungyeol the entire visit until near the end when Woohyun suddenly says, “You know Yeol, Sunggyu’s been extremely worried about you. He left his office right after I called him and he stayed the entire nineteen hours up until Sungjong kicked the two of us out- oh look at him blush over there!” 

“Oh my God Nam Woohyun, shut up!” Sunggyu exclaims as he slaps his palm against his forehead, clearly done with Woohyun. 

Dongwoo’s laughing at them and Sungyeol can’t help that his shoulders suddenly feel lighter and move easier as he joins Dongwoo in laughing at Sunggyu’s embarrassing dismay.

Before they leave though, Sungyeol makes sure to thank Woohyun a million times more and Dongwoo and even Sunggyu, making sure to personally slap his shoulder as hard as he can in the most playful manner that he can. 

—-

“What exactly are you nightmares about?” Howon asks when it’s just him visiting Sungyeol and no one else is around. It’s actually strange for Howon to come on his own, but the timing had fitted into his schedule so he made sure to at least drop by Sungyeol’s apartment to check up on him.

“They usually have to do with you and Sungjong getting married or-” 

“No, I mean the ones where you end up losing sleep over.”

He has to freeze his body to allow his mind to process what’s going on right now. Howon never uses that tone with him, never has any serious talk with him unless it had had to do with work, which there isn’t anymore because Sungyeol doesn’t work with him anymore. Why is Howon even interested in Sungyeol’s nightmares anyway? No one else asks him about them and Sungyeol’s pretty sure everyone can figure what they could possibly be about too. 

“I don’t want to talk about this,” Sungyeol answers as quick as he can.

“Sungyeol,” Howon’s voice is steady, “You need to talk about it eventually. I don’t think you can talk about it with the others but I’m willing to listen without judgement.” 

And oh how true that is, so true that Sungyeol wants to let out a sob of relief. Bless Lee Howon. 

“I-” Sungyeol pauses, “I don’t know if I can even really describe them though.” 

Howon snorts, “Okay, yeah. You gave in way too easily (“Shut the fuck up Howon”). Start off with where they usually take place then. I assume they all take place in a similar time or setting? Of course they do to be that haunting.” 

This time Sungyeol snorts, “Gee, you’re such a dream expert. Why even ask, I’m sure you’ll figure it all out Mr. Smart-Ass.” 

“Okay, okay,” Howon chuckles, “I promise I’ll be good.” 

Sungyeol eyes him but then sighs as he starts to finally tell someone what his night time horrors consist of, “In the dreams, I’m not me. I mean, I am because it’s my dream, but the person I’m supposed to be isn’t the actual me. It’s just someone else, a twisted and sadistic person. All the dreams have different settings but I guess they do take place around the same time. There’s always this boy and always always always I’m there with my hands and my anger and I just-” 

“Want to kill him?” Howon offers almost half heartedly but Sungyeol is too consumed in his own vivid memory of the dreams that he doesn’t realize how much Howon actually is immersed into his words. 

“Yeah,” Sungyeol finally says. “I mean no. I don’t want to kill him, ever. It’s just too cruel to kill him, you know? I mean, I’m always angry or frustrated in the dreams. That’s what fuels my desire to hurt the boy, but it always seems to wash away after a certain amount of damage is done and all that’s left is adoration and affection and it’s sick. It’s sick, Howon. I shouldn’t feel this way even if it’s a dream and what’s worse is how detailed and clear they are, as if I’m actually living them out when I know it isn’t real at all.” 

“Sometimes I think the boy knows how conflicted I am. I think he urges me to become angry or something. He does it on purpose to get some kind of thrill from it and that’s just fucking wrong. He’s a boy, like he’s literally seven or eight and he shouldn’t be doing these things and you know what? He’s supposed to be a boy in the dreams but I know in reality he isn’t. He’s… He’s… He’s-”

“Kim Myungsoo.” 

Sungyeol swears he can hear glass shatter all around him but he knows it’s all in his head, he knows that since Myungsoo had left their hospital, no one had once spoken the name until now. It feels almost ethereal but Sungyeol knows that at least this isn’t a dream. Howon only looks at him expectantly, waiting for Sungyeol’s verdict on his answer. 

“I know you’re kind of uhm, slow, but Sungyeol did you ever read all of Kim Myungsoo’s files?” 

Sungyeol’s jaw tightens at the mention of slow, he’s been called that a million times before but right now it sparks this heat in him, but he ignores it for Howon’s sake. “I couldn’t bring myself to.” 

Howon hums in response and then he’s sighing. “I kind of think this is all Sunggyu’s fault. I mean, he shouldn’t have even admitted Kim Myungsoo into our hospital, but I guess he was hoping that you could help Kim Myungsoo mentally.” 

Sungyeol’s brain can’t seem to wrap itself around anything Howon’s saying. “Why are you bringing this all up? What are you trying to do?” 

“Well,” Howon pulls out a folded piece of paper from his pocket, “I was pretty much ordered here by Sunggyu. He told me not to tell you, but I can’t hide something like this from you.” 

Sungyeol takes the paper that’s handed to him and immediately unfolds and reads it. It’s a legal document that’s in the process of being approved to have Sungyeol under mental therapy, Sunggyu’s signature is clear and neatly signed at the bottom. 

“What the fuck?” Sungyeol sighs out, his voice dry and barely audible, “Is this a joke?” 

“Sunggyu thinks you may be going through a mental condition where you’re vulnerable to forming similar illnesses to those you become in contact with. Basically he thinks you’re being influenced by Kim Myungsoo’s own mental unstableness.” 

“That- That was months ago! I haven’t been in contact with Myungsoo for over half a year. You can’t seriously tell me that Sunggyu thinks I am imitating his illness!” Sungyeol can’t seem to control his voice as his hands shake and drop the sheet in his hand.

“Not per se,” Howon purses his lips, “Sungyeol, it can mean many different things. You can be experiencing these nightmares because of certain events that happened between you and Myungsoo. You don’t have to be having the same symptoms he had or necessarily contract the same illness he had either. All he needed to do was plant that seed of doubt in you and then you’d start to… Well, you’d start to lose your mind too.”

“What are you insinuating? That I’m crazy? Howon, I’m not that stupid. I did work in that hospital for over three fucking years. I know what you mean. I’d have to originally be insane to even catch Myungsoo’s sick fucking disease.” 

“It’s a rare occurrence, Sungyeol. We never know who has it until they get in contact with someone influential enough. I guess Sunggyu caught on too late though.” Howon stands and picks the fallen paper from the ground, “I should leave. I know I shouldn’t have told you (“Yeah you fucktard, look at how insulted I am!”) but I felt like you had the right to know. I mean, shit, Yeol. There could be worse things in the world. I didn’t mean to trick you and I hope you know I didn’t but you’ll get better if you have someone to talk to.”

Before Sungyeol even wants to get started on how much he hates Howon right now, he decides for the first time ever to just shut up and allow someone to get the last word. Howon leaves as quickly as he came and Sungyeol suddenly doesn’t hate Howon as much as he hates Sunggyu. How could he? Honestly, Sungyeol had thought Sunggyu was worried about him. Obviously he had been worried over the actual sanity that was barely left even riding in Sungyeol right now. He even sent Howon, the least likely person Sungyeol would ever actually bitch at or punch, but the urge had been very strong in Sungyeol though. He knows Howon didn’t trick him, a part of Sungyeol believes if Howon wasn’t here on business then he’d actually be concerned to know about Sungyeol’s nightmares and current condition. For that he can’t remain angry at Howon.

Everything was becoming fucked up, so much more than Sungyeol had wanted it to be. He was sick, it was confirmed because someone had said it was. He was certified insane now, completely bonkers and as the seconds ticked by he was only going to get worse. The dreams hadn’t been real obviously, Sungyeol knew that. He had always known the boy in the dreams was meant to be Myungsoo. 

Myungsoo - the patient in room 7L who referred to himself as a princess and had been brutally tortured for fourteen years by a man who had the same face as Sungyeol. 

But it wasn’t like Sungyeol hadn’t seen or heard from Myungsoo in those long seven months since they had said their farewells - no, Sungyeol had in fact been in very close contact to Myungsoo not even a week ago.

The night he had been stabbed, he had a clear view of who did it. 

Of course it was Myungsoo that lodged the switchblade into his right shoulder and slammed his fist repeatedly on the wound until Sungyeol was left with ugly purple bruises and crimson red blood staining the dirty gravel floor. 

The only real question burning in Sungyeol’s head was; _what the hell was Myungsoo doing there in the first place?_


	3. Chapter 3

The questions are filling up in Sungyeol’s head now, so much more that they occupy the horrific space within which used to be filled to the brim with nightmares of breaking a young Myungsoo. He doesn’t open his front door anymore unless it’s Woohyun because for some unexplainable reason, the only person he can currently trust is Woohyun. Howon doesn’t bother to be his ‘therapist’ anymore and Dongwoo can worry all he wants because Sungyeol isn’t going to answer the door for him either. Sungjong and Sunggyu both give up easily in an attempt to pacify Sungyeol’s current rebellious state, but Woohyun will still come by.

It’s stupid, Sungyeol knows because Woohyun and Sunggyu are closer than Sungyeol is to Woohyun, but right now the only person he can stand to be around is Woohyun. Also, the other always offers to cook Sungyeol dinner and he’ll be damned to turn those offers down. 

Woohyun doesn’t act any differently, Sungyeol likes that about him. No matter the situation, he’s always the same because he doesn’t want to break their routine and would rather play the ignorance card to keep the simplicity between their relationship - or any of Woohyun’s relationships, really. 

“Is your shoulder feeling better?” Woohyun asks when he comes in, plastic bag of groceries in one hand and the other holding a crumpled up piece of paper. At least Woohyun doesn’t try to play therapist with Sungyeol. 

“It’s mostly better now, wasn’t that serious anyways.” It’s already been two weeks since Sungyeol came back from the hospital and he’s able to move around easier. 

“That’s good then,” Woohyun laughs and then shoves the paper in his pocket as he starts to prep the vegetables. “How does kimchi jjigae sound?”

Sungyeol scrunches up his nose, “Make something else. I want curry.” 

“God, you’re so picky. Fine then your highness, I’ll get onto it right away.” 

“Don’t call me that,” Sungyeol pouts disapprovingly, “Sounds weird.”

Woohyun’s only response is a light hum because he’s busy with cooking, but Sungyeol’s decided to shut up anyways. He waits patiently for the food to come while tapping his finger against the window pane by his bed.

—-

Myungsoo isn’t a boy in the dreams anymore, he’s fully grown this time to his twenty-one year old self that Sungyeol is familiar with. His features are more clear and detailed, right down to the little dimple he gets when he smiles. 

“Oh, prince Sungyeol. You’re always so slow. You’re always keeping me waiting.” 

Myungsoo’s smile is that same coy one he use to always pull while in the hospital and he’s leaning against a white picket fence, wearing an oversized sweater and black jeans which hug his legs too tightly. He isn’t wearing any shoes, but that’s mainly because the last time Sungyeol had seen him, he didn’t get a clear visual on his footwear. Myungsoo looks exactly the way he did the night he attacked Sungyeol. 

“Your hair is longer,” seems to be the only thing Sungyeol says though and Myungsoo chuckles at that.

“Here.” 

A small fruit knife is placed in Sungyeol’s hand, courtesy of Myungsoo. 

“Get me before I get you, prince.” 

In dreams, you usually don’t ever pay attention to the sky, though it’s always somewhere in your mind because in reality people hardly ever pay attention the sky either but they know it’s always there. They say that when you do look up at the sky in your dreams though, you can see the universe in all it’s glorious colors and lights and that in all dreams, the sky is the same as it is in reality. Right now, Sungyeol’s sky is black and twisting in a rage of pure pity. 

Sungyeol realizes he needs to find Myungsoo.

—-

Trying to dig up the past of a person is extremely hard when you suddenly lose the opportunity and means to do so. Sungyeol regrets not having read all of Myungsoo’s files now because he no longer has access to them and he can’t ask anyone to just give them to him because: 1) that’s illegal, and 2) he knows no one is going to help him in tracking down Myungsoo either. 

It’s still just as hard because Kim Myungsoo had previously been declared as missing since just a year and half ago so anything having to deal with him on the internet is obviously cut-off. The only real clue Sungyeol has is to search for the hospital that Myungsoo had been transferred to before Sungyeol had last seen him. He’s at least glad he remembers the name of the institute. 

It’s a much smaller building than Sungyeol’s previous place of work, but it only makes it all the more easier on him when he steps in and asks the pretty receptionist for patient Kim Myungsoo. 

The name rings a bell instantly and she smiles warmly at the mention of Myungsoo.

“I remember him. I’m sorry but he’s been checked out since two months ago.” 

Sungyeol furrows his eyebrows at that, “Checked out? As in someone checked him out?” 

She nods in confirmation, “That’s right. A family member checked him out.”

“I see,” Sungyeol purses his lips, “Thank you.”

“No problem.” The nurse smiles at him but before he leaves she suddenly seems to remember something important. “Wait, could I please get your name?” 

“My name?” Sungyeol asks and she nods. “It’s Lee Sungyeol.” 

“I knew it!” She quickly swirls around in her chair and pulls open a drawer, digging through it for something. “Prince Lee Sungyeol, I have a message for you from Princess Mingsoo.” 

He reluctantly takes the slightly worn envelope (did this nurse seriously just call him a prince) and thanks her for it before getting the hell out of there. 

—-

The only thing in the message to be found is a slip of paper with an address on it, so immediately, Sungyeol catches a cab and has to pay full price even though the driver couldn’t take him all the way to his destination.

“Ride ends here,” he had said, “It’s privately owned property so you’ll have to walk the rest of the way to the house.” 

Where exactly was Myungsoo leading Sungyeol? From the looks of it, he had wound up on a dirt path road leading up into a thicket of forests and unknown territory. Would a cell phone even work up here? Would Sungyeol even be able to find his way to wherever it was he was trying to reach? 

The dirt path is small and barely visible as grass and moss begin to grow over and it eventually does disappear under the green when Sungyeol reaches a clearing. Little lilacs and dandelions are sprouting from the ground and Sungyeol doesn’t need a path anymore to see where his destination is. It really is a house, actually a mansion or villa would be better used because just miles away is a huge building with multiple flowers surrounding it and it looks like something out of a painting. 

“What the actual-” Sungyeol stops and then decides it’s quite pointless to talk to himself so he instead makes way to the house.

When he gets there, he’s out of breath and nearly dying from the excessive amounts of sweaters he had put on. In the city it was so much colder, but the weather doesn’t seem to affect this fairytale place.

It only takes three knocks before someone is opening the door and Sungyeol feels awkward that it’s an old man in his possible sixties dressed as some european butler. 

“May I help you, sir?” 

He feels more awkward at getting called sir. Sungyeol is anything but a ‘sir’ at this point with his brow sweaty and his clothes dirty from the walk here. “Uhm, I’m actually looking for Kim Myungsoo.” 

“Myungsoo-ssi? Yes, he’s out in the back. Come this way.” 

Sungyeol immediately follows and looking into the house he can see how expensive and well cared for everything is in here. There doesn’t seem to be another soul around but Sungyeol feels like a whole lot more people use to live here but now even their ghosts don’t want to haunt it. 

“There’s a guest here,” is what the butler says and he doesn’t bother with mentioning anything else as he takes his leave.

The backyard is nothing but beautiful gardens and scenery too and Sungyeol suspects whoever must have owned the place loved nature and seclusion. The first person he notices is a young girl about Sungjong’s age with long wavy brown hair and a small frame. She’s sitting at a small, white garden table (a tray of tea and cookies in front of her, how typical) and her eyes scan Sungyeol very curiously. Secondly, he notices the young man about a year younger than him, fully clothed in black (such a contrast to the green and white surrounding him) and his front is turned from Sungyeol’s view. He doesn’t need to turn around for both males to know who it is. 

Before the girl can speak, it’s Myungsoo who addresses Sungyeol first. 

“You found me.” 

“You know him?” The girl asks, moving her eyes from Sungyeol to Myungsoo.

“He’s my dear friend, the one I told you about.” 

Sungyeol doesn’t want to imagine the things he has told this girl about him. 

“Well,” Myungsoo finally turns to look at Sungyeol, “Are you just going to stand there or are you gonna come over here and join us?” His smile is the same, even the dimple is showing itself. 

Wordlessly, Sungyeol walks over, his foots following the stone path that leads to the table. Myungsoo pulls an empty chair out for Sungyeol and gestures him to sit. 

“This is Jiyeon,” Myungsoo says after Sungyeol’s seated and looking over at the girl, “She’s my cousin.” 

“Cousin?” Sungyeol asks, wondering if Myungsoo really did have any relatives. 

“Through marriage. We’re not blood related,” She follows up immediately, “And your name?”

“Sungyeol,” he bows his head slightly but notices she makes no attempt to return the greeting. 

“Jiyeon-ah, do you think you could give us a few minutes to catch up?” Myungsoo says and Sungyeol hears a tone he’s never heard before. It’s sickly glazed in honey and the ‘ah’ endearment just makes it even more morbid. 

She purses her shiny lip-glossed lips before nodding and without so much as glancing over at Sungyeol again, she leaves the two in their own solitude within the garden. 

Myungsoo’s face still looks the same from the last time Sungyeol saw him and his bangs have grown to cover his eyes just a tab bit which makes Sungyeol want to constantly brush them aside. Other than though, Myungsoo almost seems completely content with his life right now. 

“Took you long enough, I have been waiting for over two weeks to see you again, you know?” Myungsoo picks up an empty tea cup and pours some of the hot liquid into it for Sungyeol. 

“Well,” Sungyeol takes the offered tea but doesn’t drink from it, “I had a hard time using my right arm for a while. You do know shoulders are valuable for movement, right?” 

Myungsoo’s chuckle is slightly dark, “It caught your attention, didn’t it?” 

“I don’t think that’s what you were trying to do,” Sungyeol sighs. He wonders why talking to Myungsoo always ends up with the same half hearted responses. 

“I’m happy you decided to search for me though.” Myungsoo’s smile is sweet and so very genuine that Sungyeol isn’t sure if he likes it or not, “I was beginning to wonder if you forgot about me or something.” 

“No,” Sungyeol admits, “That’s something very hard to do. Even the nurse at your last hospital couldn’t seem to forget you.”

“Ah,” Myungsoo nods, “She was easy to charm. She likes pretty things you see and obviously, most people find me very pretty.” 

Sungyeol snorts, “Men shouldn’t take pride in looking pretty.” 

“I’m a princess, remember? Not my fault if I’m just naturally gorgeous.” 

“You can stop with that act now,” Sungyeol furrows his eyebrows, “It isn’t funny anymore, you know.” 

Myungsoo smiles even wider, “I thought you liked it though. Wasn’t it a fun game?” 

The word ‘game’ especially seems to stand out to Sungyeol. Something about it makes him feel slightly nauseous. “I just came by to ask what it is you want from me.” 

“Isn’t it obvious what I want?” Myungsoo tilts his head in a teasing manner and then his hand reaches for the silverware on the tea tray. He picks a certain utensil up and slides it across the table to Sungyeol. “I want us to be friends.” 

Friends? 

Sungyeol looks down at the silver little knife placed in front of him by his now cold tea. “That’s it?”

The younger of the two laughs and it sounds innocent and airy, “Well yeah. What’d you think I’d want from you? You were the most interesting person I met after all.” 

Sungyeol stares intently at the knife, “I don’t know. I mean… Friends? Seriously, are you stupid or something? There are better ways of asking someone to be your friend.” 

“I don’t like better ways,” Myungsoo says with a sudden bored expression. “There are no better ways without all the bad ways first. Being first is important, prince.”

And Sungyeol cringes at the word ‘prince’ but ignores the urge to roll his eyes. “I found you,” he concludes instead, “but you found me first.” 

“That’s right,” Myungsoo is back to smiling again, “Look at how clever you’ve gotten!” 

“Oh shut up, asshole,” Sungyeol frowns at him. “You’re seriously a psychopathic stalker. How did you even contact that Jiyeon girl in there? Does she know how fucked up you are?” 

Myungsoo sighs, “Oh her? She’s almost as easy to manipulate as the female nurses are. All those girls are the same, they all like pretty things. She’s some delusional rich girl whose brother was in the same institute as me.”

“Are you two even related?”

“Of course not. I got her to sign me out and she brought me here to keep an eye on me. I don’t want to talk about her though, not with you at least. There’s so much more you and I could be talking about.” 

Sungyeol raises an eyebrow, “Like what?” 

“Whatever friends talk about.” 

“Have you ever had any real friends before?” Sungyeol asks but then instantly realizes that his question was a bit too personal for someone like Myungsoo who lacked a real childhood. 

He doesn’t expect Myungsoo’s answer though, “Two. I had two friends growing up. They’re both dead now.” 

“Oh,” Sungyeol replies but isn’t sure what else to say.

“You can ask me anything, you know. I won’t hide the truth from you, prince.” 

He hesitates to ask anything because here’s Myungsoo, right in front of him with all these answers and yet Sungyeol is afraid of what he could possibly learn about from someone so messed up in the head. “What… Were their names?” 

“Injun and Junghwan. They were both the same age as me.” 

‘How did they die?” 

“Injun was burned to death and Junghwan got sick.” 

“I’m sorry,” Sungyeol says because he can’t think of anything else to say.

“That was years ago,” Myungsoo smiles weakly, “It’s okay now. I have you afterall. You’ll stay by my side, right?”

Sungyeol’s sharp and he know what Myungsoo’s doing right now, but the worse part of him is allowing Myungsoo to control him. “Yeah, I’ll be around.” 

Myungsoo’s smile once again grows wider, “Perfect. Let’s go inside before it gets too cold out here, alright? It is still winter.” 

He stands and places a hand out for Sungyeol, “You will come with me?” 

It feels like Myungsoo means something else entirely by the words but Sungyeol tries hard not to read too much into it. “Sure, let’s go.” He takes Myungsoo’s hand instead. 

It’s almost as cold and lifeless as it feels in his dreams. 

—-

Sixteen missed calls. Twenty-three unread messages.

_**From: Lee Sungjong** _

Hyung, where are you? 

_**From: Lee Sungjong** _

Pick up!

_**From: Jang Dongwoo** _

Sungyeol, are you home?

_**From: Lee Howon** _

It’s an emergency, come to the hospital.

_**From: Lee Howon** _

Yeol, I swear if you don’t answer then I’ll break down your front door.

_**From: Lee Sungjong** _

Hyung! Answer me!

_**From: Kim Sunggyu** _

Sungyeol, please come by. Woohyun’s been in an accident.


	4. Chapter 4

It’s like a faraway place where no one can reach them, a secluded area that was made for them. Sungyeol isn’t sure why he feels like this, but walking around in this big old house with all the ornate decorations make it feel like the perfectly eerie setting to his tragic story involving Kim Myungsoo. Of course, they aren’t really alone. There’s the girl - Jiyeon who keeps giving Sungyeol side glances and the butler who acts oblivious to it all. Myungsoo mentioned there was a cook too, but Sungyeol has yet to see that person. Aside from the other three, there really is no one else living in the much too large mansion, so it makes Sungyeol nervous. 

“You should stay the night, it’s getting dark out,” Myungsoo mentions when they round the corner and Sungyeol is being shown the library. 

“I can’t- I shouldn’t impose.” 

“It’s fine. There are plenty of available bedrooms for use. I can have the butler clean a room for you.” Myungsoo runs his finger down the spine of a worn out book before looking at Sungyeol and smirking, “Or you can just sleep in my bed with me. Either way is good.”

Sungyeol sighs a little too dramatically, “Stop it will you? I think if I leave now then I could call a taxi.” 

“Suit yourself then,” Myungsoo easily gives up and points to a corner desk, “There’s no cell reception up here. You’ll have to use the landline.” 

The phone is just as old and dusty as the rest of the place but a few wipes with Sungyeol sleeve and it’s less disgusting to have to hold against his ear. After a few rings, he’s discussing with a cab driver the fare to come and get him when suddenly Myungsoo is right beside him, gazing at him with such intensity that Sungyeol pauses for a long minute on the phone. He’s broken out of his reverie when the person on the phone starts to repeatedly ask him where it is he’ll be driving to. 

“You’re such a creep,” is the first thing Sungyeol says when he hangs up. 

Myungsoo laughs a little hollowly, “Come on, let’s go back downstairs and wait for your ride.” 

Downstairs is Jiyeon with her legs crossed and a book cradled in her arms, the butler is no where to be seen and Sungyeol thinks he’s probably taking a dump or something from all the tension filled in this house. 

“So how long will you be staying?” She asks once Sungyeol is in her view. Myungsoo seems to not notice her as he leads Sungyeol to sit down on the hard sofa across from her.

“Uhm, about forty minutes. I’ve called a cab and they should be coming to get me.”

“Well, we’ll see if they make it up here. I heard that there’s going to be a storm tonight.” Jiyeon closes her book and sighs, “You’re free to stay here, honestly, it is a big house.” 

Sungyeol purses his lips, “No. It’s fine, I’m sure they’ll make it here before the storm hits.” 

“I’ve already made arrangements for your room, but suit yourself. If you’ll excuse me now…” She doesn’t necessarily look at Sungyeol when she stands to leave but there’s a longing flicker of a gaze directed towards Myungsoo, whom once again, is staring holes into Sungyeol’s left temple.

After she leaves, Sungyeol finally breathes. “Stop that. You’re so creepy.” 

“I can’t help if my prince is so handsome,” Myungsoo smiles and his eyes crinkle up, “Do you want some more tea?” 

“No thank you. This is so weird. Before, I use to be the one asking you what’d you want to drink.” 

“It has been a while, of course things would change. What’d you expect? To see me still wearing those plain white hospital clothes and sitting in a bed, slowly waiting for my prince to come and get me?” 

“Myungsoo, it hasn’t even been a year. How did you even get out so quick? I mean… Why’d you decide to get out now?” 

“Do you really want to know? As I recall, you didn’t seem to think it would make a difference before.” 

“I-” Sungyeol hesitates. Did it really make any difference now? Actually, to Sungyeol it does. “Please tell me.” 

Myungsoo smiles, “My, you’re so polite. Alright, it’s pretty basic you see. The key to it was my devilish good looks and wonderful charm. It was easy to get nurses to do things for me, even allow my discharge to be pushed up a bit.”

“You’re insane,” Sungyeol sighs, “But… I mean, why?”

“Why am I insane? Well you see-” Myungsoo begins to explain but is cut off by Sungyeol. 

“No, you dork. Why did you want to leave the hospitals now when you probably could have left whenever you wanted to before?” 

“Oh. You should have been more clear in your question. It’s because of you, silly. I finally found you, I’m not letting you get away so easily.” 

Then a little click goes off in Sungyeol’s head, “Do you have the power to control the weather or something?” 

Myungsoo chuckles, “No, I am afraid not. I think luck is just on my side. I do predict that in ten minutes, you’ll get a call saying the roads have been washed away by the rain and you won’t be able to leave tonight.” 

“But it hasn’t even started raining yet!” Sungyeol protests, arms flying up and Myungsoo chuckling at him. 

“Okay fine, twenty minutes then.” 

—-

“Your bath is ready,” the butler informs Sungyeol once he’s beginning to settle in one of the guest rooms. 

It’s already been an hour since Sungyeol received a very static-y call telling him that he’d have to wait until the storm blows over before anyone will be able to drive out there and reach him. Lord knows long the storm will last though.

“Thanks,” Sungyeol replies and gathers a small basket holding toiletries. Honestly, taking a bath isn’t the first thing on his mind right now but Myungsoo had been so insistent that he try the special baths mix that Jiyeon’s family has been making since the age of the dinosaurs. 

“How is it?” Myungsoo asks and surprises Sungyeol as he’s barely beginning to soak into the milky white water.

“Myungsoo!” Sungyeol yells and sinks his body into the warm water to hide any nudity from the pervert that is Kim Myungsoo. “I thought I locked the door!” 

“These knobs are so old that I’m pretty sure most of the locks don’t even work anymore. Hey, why are you trying to hide your chest? It isn’t like you have breasts, right?” Myungsoo steps closer to Sungyeol in the tub and tilts his head as if he’s trying to take a look through the pearlescent water. 

“Get out! What do you even want anyways?” 

Myungsoo lifts a stiff board by his side and reveals a chessboard, “Let’s play.” 

“Now? I’m in the bathtub, Myungsoo.” 

“We can play stip chess, but since you’re already naked then I guess I’ll just have to lose to join you in the nude,” Myungsoo smiles and there isn’t anything innocent about it. 

“Are you even hearing what I’m saying? Get. Out.” 

Instead of listening obediently, Myungsoo pulls out a stool that had been sitting in the corner of the bathroom and scoots it under him as he sits by the bathtub and rests the chessboard and it’s pieces on the rim of the tub. Sungyeol sighs in defeat because he knows Myungsoo isn’t going to leave him alone and so he decides to go first. 

“You’re so weird,” Sungyeol comments moments after their game starts. 

“You are too,” Myungsoo smiles but keeps his eyes on the moving pieces in front of them, “Did you know bubbles help stimulate the brain when playing chess?” 

“That’s a lie,” Sungyeol frowns, “And I’m not even taking a bubble bath.” 

“Hmm,” Myungsoo hums in response but after that he remains quiet, his pale fingers tapping on the rim of the porcelain tub, playing a beat that Sungyeol finds soothing with the sound of heavy rain outside.

“Are you mad?” Myungsoo says after he’s just taken down almost all of Sungyeol’s pawns. 

“Mad? Well, I’m not usually one for getting mad at games bu-”

“No, are you mad at me?”

Sungyeol looks up and meets Myungsoo’s gaze, his eyes are heavy but warm and the heartstrings within Sungyeol’s chest begin to knot up. “Why would I be mad at you?” 

“I don’t know. You didn’t seem so mad when I hurt you and you weren’t yelling when you came here but… You haven’t laughed or smiled at all since arriving. I sort of miss the old you, honestly.” 

Sungyeol doesn’t know how to react to that and out of embarrassment he looks back down at the chess game, now frozen in their conversation. 

“I’m… I’m not mad at you. Myungsoo, did you even- I mean, did you even really mean to hurt me?” 

Something in Myungsoo’s voice shakes and falters, but only slightly enough for Sungyeol to barely notice. It isn’t like the snarky, cynical Myungsoo to look quite worried and distressed, but Sungyeol is only just seeing the gist of it for the first time. “Of course not. I’d never hurt you intentionally, Sungyeol…” And he looks like he’s about to cry. 

So before the tears can start to pool, Sungyeol panics, “I-I know! I know you wouldn’t. It’s okay, Myungsoo. I’m fine, really. Look, I’m not mad okay?”

“Then why aren’t you happy with me?” 

“Myungsoo…” Sungyeol purses his lips, “I am happy, it’s just very difficult for me to express it given our current situation.” It’s almost like melting butter; the way Sungyeol is lying through his teeth. Years of lying to mental patients seem to pay off as Myungsoo’s eyes light up a bit and his fingers that had been previously tapping on the bathtub now slip into the milky water and create ripples. 

“So you’ll smile more, then?” Myungsoo asks, his tone rising and his fingers flowing effortlessly in the water.

“Yes,” Sungyeol forces a smile, “I will.” 

“Good then,” Myungsoo slips his hand out of the water and suddenly stands, “Your bath’s gone cold, Sungyeol. I think it’ll be warmer if I joined you in it.” 

“Get the hell out.” 

—-

Myungsoo’s clothes fit Sungyeol well enough with the exceptions of the pants being a little too short, but that’s Sungyeol’s fault for having such long legs in the first place. The rain outside is still going strong and the drops hit the window frame hard enough to create a cacophony of drumbeats and Sungyeol can feel the cold slipping in through the glass. 

In the middle of the room is a small fire pit that doesn’t look like it’s been used in years, so Sungyeol doesn’t bother with it and instead just buries himself in thick blankets that smell like dust and death. They don’t offer any warmth, but they keep whatever cold is trying to sneak in out, with the exception of Myungsoo who sneaks into Sungyeol’s room after all the lights have gone out and wiggles his freezing toes beside Sungyeol’s ankles. 

“What the-” Sungyeol tries to spin around and face Myungsoo, but the other presses so close to his back that all Sungyeol can see is his ebony hair sticking out in messy clumps. 

“You’re so warm,” Myungsoo purrs and Sungyeol actually enjoys the breath of air from Myungsoo that fans across the back of his neck, even if it is as cold as ice.

“And you’re always a living snowman.” Myungsoo chuckles at Sungyeol’s comeback and rubs his nose against Sungyeol’s shoulder. 

“Go sleep in your own room,” Sungyeol sighs but there’s a grin dancing on his lips. He still likes the ability to make Myungsoo laugh. “I think you’ve invaded enough of my personal space today.” 

“Not enough,” Myungsoo mumbles, “Need more.” 

Myungsoo glued to his back feels like a stone statue trapping him, the only indication that proves Myungsoo is a living being is the fact that his body breathes and his words are teasing and crass. Sungyeol decides he can’t stop this either and instead listens to the rain sound and wonders what’s happening outside of these ancient walls and back in the city where all his friends are. Somewhere he thinks he can hear a bird singing a song miles away, but maybe that’s just Sungyeol’s imagination and sleep deprived mind working to fool him. Birds don’t exist in storms. 

“Hey,” Sungyeol whispers after the night has progressed and his body can’t seem to find rest with Myungsoo gripping his waist so tightly. 

It takes a minute or two but Myungsoo sleepily replies with a slurred, “what?” 

“You said you’d tell me anything if I asked right? You’ll tell me the truth, right?”

“Correct,” he says with a one-word response. 

Sungyeol hesitates and thinks about the boy with crimson wings carved into his bare back. “Do you have any scars?” 

Sungyeol can’t see it, but Myungsoo cracks open one eye, his pupil dark and huge in the dark. “Nope.” 

“Oh,” Sungyeol says lightly.

Minutes of silence pass before Myungsoo says, “I have bruises though. Ones pressed so hard into my skin that they’ve become part of me.” 

His body tenses against Myungsoo and he regrets it instantly because he knows Myungsoo can feel it, he knows Myungsoo can feel his reaction before Sungyeol can even word it. 

The blankets fly off and Myungsoo pulls Sungyeol over his body while the other scrambles to keep his arms up so he doesn’t completely squash Myungsoo. 

“You’re so ignorant, it kind of pisses me off.” The words are sharp but without bite. “I wasn’t abused like that. I wasn’t cut or hit or tortured enough to leave noticeable permanent marks. I only have bruises, but only two people have ever seen them. I wouldn’t even let the doctors at the hospitals check on them because they’re private. They’re only between me and you, prince. No one else.” 

And it’s when Myungsoo addresses Sungyeol as ‘you’ does he realize that Myungsoo isn’t talking about Sungyeol but rather the other person who has seen the bruises. The person who gave him the bruises. 

Without much warning, Myungsoo grabs Sungyeol’s hand and brings it down to his knee. Slowly he guides Sungyeol’s hand down and further in and Sungyeol can feel the cotton of Myungsoo’s pajama pants and there’s heat rising to his cheeks as his hand comes closer and closer to Myungsoo’s crotch, but they abruptly stop on his inner thigh.

“Right here. That’s where they are. That’s the kind of pain and hurt I was put through.” 

It isn’t like Sungyeol’s dreams at all. There was so much more to it than Sungyeol had imagined or figured. Myungsoo wasn’t just physically abused, he was sexually abused. He was used as a tool - an object for sex and cruelty and his captor didn’t leave any marks aside from the ones where his fingers would press into Myungsoo’s pretty white skin as he would defile the body of a child who didn’t get to grow up with a loving family. Sungyeol wants to scream, he wants to pull his hand away and run from the bed; from the room and from the house. Instead he’s frozen with horror and Myungsoo laughs with all the bitterness in his body.

“”You’re so pretty, you can’t have any marks aside from here. I can’t damage your face or your hands or anything so lovely as you,”” Myungsoo repeats the mantra he use to always hear from the person who destroyed him. “I’m not so pretty anymore though, am I prince?” 

He can’t answer Myungsoo. There’s a lump caught in his throat and his voice can’t be trusted right now anyways. It’s fucked up. It’s wrong. It’s sick. It’s disgusting. The feeling of sympathy that Sungyeol is feeling right now is so out of context, especially considering the recent events between him and Myungsoo, but he wants to cry. He wants to hold Myungsoo and cry because Myungsoo is so pitiable and fucked up and broken and Sungyeol wants to fix him. 

“You’re beautiful,” Sungyeol chokes out and presses his head against Myungsoo’s shoulder. 

Myungsoo doesn’t have a response and Sungyeol can’t see his reaction either, so he remains silent and listens to the fall of water from the sky and somewhere along the lines, he’s decided he’s going to fix a broken boy that is so set on breaking him too. 

And the broken boy smiles at that.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thE SPACING IS WEIRD IM SORRY

Myungsoo is wrapped around his body and it smells like fresh cut green apples and sea salt. They must be somewhere near the ocean, Sungyeol thinks as white sand fill in between his toes and warm fingers slip in underneath the hem of his shirt. A low hum emits from Myungsoo’s throat as he curls up closer to Sungyeol, legs becoming tangled and nose getting lost in the crook of Sungyeol’s neck.

The sky is blue and clear, only soft wisps of clouds float about.

 

The air is moist and sweet, carrying scents that Sungyeol doesn’t want to forget.

 

Myungsoo is warm and ethereal in his touch.

 

And Sungyeol decides he should wake up from his dream now.

 

-

 

Jiyeon is a stiff person, Sungyeol had realized this when he first met her. She’s polite in her form, but not in her words. She’s graceful and prefers to keep the face of a beauty than to ruin it with letting emotion show on it. Jiyeon is the type of person that Sungyeol avoids because he doesn’t like such uniform people (sort of like how Sunggyu was the first time he met him) and most of all; Jiyeon is just as damaged as most of the people Sungyeol has met in the mental institutes.

 

She watches the rain run down in strips with a heavy book in her lap as it still pours outside, it’s as if the weather is encasing them all here. When Sungyeol steps into the room, her figure doesn’t falter, but only stiffens in response.

 

“Did you need something?” She asks, eyes glued to the frosted window and hair loosely set around her face.

 

“No, sorry. I was just looking for Myungsoo,” Sungyeol answers, feeling flustered for no reason.

 

Jiyeon’s eyebrows slightly furrow upward as her lips drop into a frown and she still doesn’t look over at Sungyeol as she warns, “Stay away from Myungsoo.”

 

At first, it sounds like she’s threatening him, warning him to stay away or else she’d do something to him to ensure that he’ll keep away from Myungsoo. But, there’s so much more to her words, something deep and filled with concern is in her voice and her overall facial expression tells Sungyeol that she’s hiding something. That every thing about this whole place is a huge secret and Jiyeon has the key hidden somewhere in those eyes which refuse to so much as wander over to Sungyeol’s form.

 

She almost looks sad though, when her eyes flicker over to see Sungyeol standing stock still in the room with his hand reached towards her in an attempt to help but then-

 

“Sungyeol? Jiyeon-ah?”

 

It’s Myungsoo, a boardset in his arms and an unamused look on his face. “What are you two doing alone?”

 

“Nothing,” Jiyeon answers immediately and stands from her spot by the window, taking the book on her lap with her as she walks past Sungyeol and heads for the door.

 

Myungsoo seems to almost ignore her as he maneuvers his body to the side and allows her to exit. He doesn’t waste time in letting her escape.

 

And Sungyeol wants to chase after her, to ask her what’s wrong and what the hell is happening here, but then there’s this giant obstacle in the way and it smiles and asks, “Want to play chess again?”

 

\---

 

The storm goes on for two more days and Sungyeol finds his time being spent playing chess with Myungsoo, dumping his tea in the potted plants, having Jiyeon avoid him, and sleeping with Myungsoo in the oversized plush beds.

 

Gradually he begins to smile more, of course since he had promised Myungsoo he would. It isn’t like smiling is hard for Sungyeol either, he just feels so patronized in this building with all the empty spaces and lonely silence.

 

“When you go back to the city, can I come with you?” Myungsoo asks one day as they’re sitting in the library once more, a book about plants opened in front of them.

 

“You want to come with me? As in visit?” Sungyeol acts like he isn’t completely shocked with Myungsoo’s answer and instead focuses on the picture of some white flowers.

 

“Can I?” Myungsoo asks, “What if I appeared before your friends and gave them all a shock?”

 

Sungyeol chuckles, “That’d be terrible for their hearts. They’ll probably think I’ve gone and kidnapped you or something.”

 

“Are their hearts that important to you?”

 

He looks up from the picture of the Valley flowers and blinks at Myungsoo, “Of course. What a weird question.”

 

“Is my heart important to you too then?” Myungsoo’s expression is coy and expectant.

 

Sungyeol grins, “Yes, Myungsoo. It’s very important to me.”

 

“Good, it better be. My heart should be worth a million times more than their’s though.”

 

And that makes Sungyeol scoff, “Oh please. Don’t romanticize yourself in my eyes.”

 

Myungsoo laughs, “But it’s true!”

 

\---

 

Sungyeol had expected her reaction the minute Myungsoo asked if he could go back to the city with Sungyeol.

 

Jiyeon is upset at first, pursing her lips and furrowing her brow in silence but eventually she becomes nonchalant and tells Myungsoo to bring plenty of warm clothes because they’ll never know it it’ll snow or not. It isn’t like she’s Myungsoo’s guardian (he’s old enough to be living on his own for heaven’s sake) but Myungsoo still needs her consent, after all, she is the one who legally signed him out of the hospital.

 

They leave in the early morning and Myungsoo has a bright red muffler on, it makes him stand out in all the grays and blacks that still occupy the sky from the rain. It’s only lightly sprinkling on their heads so Sungyeol doesn’t bother with taking an umbrella from the house, instead he pulls his hood well over his head and walks with Myungsoo closely trailing by.

 

“Can I hold your hand?” Myungsoo asks while trying to keep up with Sungyeol’s long strides.

 

“Why?” Sungyeol answers with, his brow furrowing in confusion.

 

“I don’t want to slip and fall.”

 

“So you’d rather slip and drag me down with you?”

 

Myungsoo laughs and pulls on Sungyeol’s arm, “Please?”

 

Sungyeol eventually complies and the two slip and fall in the mud, Myungsoo being the one to drag Sungyeol down with him of course.

 

\---

 

Myungsoo likes the smell of Sungyeol’s bed and curls himself into when they return the city, the sky is a lot clearer here but there are still traces of the recent storm and even the neighborhood cat is still hiding in it’s little cardboard house under the apartment building. Sungyeol’s walls are thin and so the cold easily slips in and the heater hasn’t worked for years so he tosses blankets everywhere for Myungsoo to casually lay on and roll about as he pleases.

 

“You’re like the cat who wanders around here,” Sungyeol chuckles, “Always doing as you please and expecting the care of others.”

 

Myungsoo rolls himself up in a particular fleece blanket and he looks like kimbap to Sungyeol. “Meow,” he teases and then grins like an upside down cheshire cat, “I’m taking care of you though.”

 

“How?” Sungyeol cocks his head before squatting down beside Myungsoo and pulling the blanket off of him, “Last time I checked, I’m going to be allowing you to stay in my apartment.”

 

Myungsoo rolls out ungracefully and his hair is a mess when he pouts, “That isn’t true. I’m taking care of you more than you know.”

 

The older laughs and folds the fleece blanket in his arms, “Really?”

 

“Remember all that tea I served you?” Myungsoo starts to teeter his head in a playful manner, “And how I kept you entertained with all the board games?”

 

“Hardly counts,” Sungyeol pulls his cell phone from his pocket before realizing he needs to charge it.

 

They spend the afternoon arguing like children about who’s taking care of who and when it’s already past 3PM, Sungyeol finally decides he should call up Dongwoo or Sungjong and see if they’d like to reunite with Myungsoo too.

 

But what he sees on his phone startles him into a silence that gets the small corner of Myungsoo’s lips to curve upward.

 

**From: Lee Sungjong**

Where are you!? Woohyun hyung is in a coma.

 

\---

 

“Where have you been!?” Is the first thing out of Sungjong’s mouth after he tackles Sungyeol in a bone crushing hug followed by a foot to the shin.

 

After letting out a wail of pain, Sungyeol replies with a short, “Out.”

 

“Out where? We got scared that you were kidnapped for ransom or something. Except the kidnappers forgot to leave a ransom note and Dongwoo hyung wouldn’t let Howon hyung knock down your front door so we could check up on you.”

 

“I didn’t have service and then my phone died,” Sungyeol explains and then peeks over Sungjong’s shoulder. The look on his face is worried and he chews on the inside of his cheeks, anxiety feeling his veins.

 

So Sungjong doesn’t press any further and only side steps to give Sungyeol room to go into room 23H.

 

There’s a large machine perched right next to the bed on a long metal pole, lights are flashing from it and numbers change with constant beeps as tubes run rampant from it and all lead to the same area.

 

They all end at Woohyun.

 

His hair’s a mess (Sungyeol wonders if anyone is taking proper care of the poor guy) and his face seems even paler than the moon, but other than that he looks almost like the same.

 

“What happened?” Sungyeol asks, and the only other person in the room is Sunggyu.

 

“He was in an accident. Slipped and fell from the rooftop, luckily there were trees to break the fall. I have no idea what he was even doing up there in the first place,” Sunggyu says in a low voice before tearing his eyes away from Woohyun’s sleeping figure and looking at Sungyeol with hard eyes. “Where have you been? We couldn’t contact you for days, we didn’t want to have to worry even more over you.”

 

Guilt rushes into Sungyeol and he realizes that his friends have been much more concerned than he figured - that Sunggyu has been more worried and afraid than anyone else.

 

“I went to go-” Sungyeol pauses. He doesn’t know how to word this. How does he tell Sunggyu that he went to go find Myungsoo?

 

“I guess it doesn’t matter right now.” Sunggyu’s eyes are scanning Sungyeol’s face in slow motions but still they remain intense, “You can tell me later.”

 

Sunggyu means what he says. He can tell him later, but not the others. At least Sungyeol gets that much before the elder goes back to watching Woohyun’s steady breathing and Sungyeol feels miles away from the two - from everyone.

 

He discovers that being with Myungsoo means only being with Myungsoo. He can’t be with Myungsoo and be with his friends. It’s one or the other and Sungyeol doesn’t think he’s ready to make that choice.

 

But then again, perhaps he already has.

 

\---

 

“Did you go visit Woohyun already?” Howon asks when Sungyeol calls him up.

 

“Yeah, sorry for worrying you guys.”

 

“Seriously though, where did you run off to? Dongwoo hyung almost came to the conclusion that you were dead.”

 

There’s a dry laugh from Sungyeol. “How sweet of him to declare me dead already.”

 

“You know he didn’t mean anything, just his maternal instincts.”

 

“Yeah. I was doing some business. Secret agent type stuff, a lowly peasant like you wouldn’t understand.”

 

“What kind of hierarchy are you living in that your system is worth putting me in as a peasant?” Howon’s familiar laugh reels Sungyeol into a false state of familiarity. He forgets that he’s got a psycho like Myungsoo waiting for him at home.

 

They lapse into soft laughters before Sungyeol asks, “I just saw him but, how’s Sunggyu holding up? He actually looks like he hasn’t left Woohyun’s side for days.”

 

“He hasn’t.” Howon scoffs, “I practically have to run everything here while he’s watching over Woohyun.”

 

“So he hasn’t stopped by the hospital or his office?”

 

“Nope, it’s locked.” There’s a brief pause before Sungyeol is about to reply but then Howon quickly says, “He’s really losing his shit over you and Woohyun you know, so please, for the mental security of us all, do not do anything stupid.”

 

“What?” Sungyeol questions with offence, “What makes you think I’m gonna do something stupid!?”

 

“Sungyeol,” Howon says sharply, “It’s you, what do you expect me to think? Hell, if I know you correctly then you’ve probably already done something stupid.”

 

“Untrue!” He protests but who is he kidding? He knows what he’s done and he knows what he’s going to be doing next too.

 

“Whatever. Anyways, there’s something about Sunggyu and Woohyun thou-” Howon gets interrupted and Sungyeol can hear another person’s voice in the background. “I have to go check on a patient right now, I’ll call you tonight though. Keep your phone charged this time for goodness sake’s and please, call up Dongwoo hyung too.”

 

“I will, talk to you later then.”

 

It only takes a few minutes for Dongwoo to deliriously sob over the phone and Sungyeol is thankful that he didn’t meet up with Dongwoo in a public place or they’d be causing a real scene. Later that evening when he gets back to his apartment though, he discovers Myungsoo wrapped up in the fleece blanket, deep in sleep.

 

“Wake up, it’s still daylight.” Sungyeol purses his lips at the sight of unruly black hair and drool rolling down soft pink lips.

 

Myungsoo makes a grunting sound which is suppose to be him saying, “five more minutes” but Sungyeol’s already unwrapping him from the fleece blanket and folding the damn thing back up.

 

When Myungsoo’s much more sober from sleep, he blinks wildly at Sungyeol handling the blanket with such care that he pulls at the other’s sleeve, “I like that one. Let me keep it.”

 

“You can’t,” Sungyeol places it in a cabinet and heads to the kitchen to start dinner, which is going to be ramyun of course.

 

“Why not?”

 

“It isn’t mine. I can’t give away what isn’t mine.”

 

Myungsoo’s eyes drop, “Who’s is it?”

 

And Sungyeol can feel the stare stabbing into his back, “It’s Woohyun’s.”

 

“Hm,” Myungsoo hums and decides he no longer wants the world’s softest blanket anymore.

 

“He’s in the hospital you know,” Sungyeol finds himself saying as he fills a pot with water and sets it on the stove.

 

“Hm,” Myungsoo replies with again.

 

The fire takes forever to ignite but eventually it does and Sungyeol keeps on talking, “Most of the trauma was to the head and he’s in a comatose state. He… He slipped and fell from the rooftop of the hospital. It’s only four stories, but he’s lucky there were lots of trees and bushes to stop him from breaking his neck or something.”

 

“I see.” Myungsoo’s voice is flat and borderline nonchalant, but Sungyeol pretends as if Myungsoo actually cares.

 

“D-Do you…” Sungyeol swallows and starts to pick at the chipping paint from his countertop, “Did you have anything to do with it?”

 

Myungsoo walks across the small living room and steps into the open kitchen, his arms folding around Sungyeol’s waist and reaching for the knobs which control the stove. “You gotta keep it on medium heat Sungyeol or it’ll boil over.”

 

“Right,” Sungyeol’s body is still and he watches as little bubbles form at the bottom of the pot, “Sorry.”

 

Myungsoo leans his body against Sungyeol’s back and the taller of the two can feel Myungsoo’s lips form into a smile on the back of his bare neck. “I’m innocent, Sungyeol.”

 

“Are you?” The air feels thin. Or thick. Or both. Maybe Sungyeol just can’t breathe at all right now with Myungsoo pressed so closely and his nerves running wild with speculations.

 

“I told you I wouldn’t lie. You and I were together for the last four days. I don’t have time to be in two places at once, you know.”

 

“But,” Sungyeol starts, “You could have something to do with it.”

 

“You don’t trust me?” Myungsoo’s lips are moist on Sungyeol’s neck and it feels a bit enticing.

 

“I don’t know.”

 

“I had nothing to do with it,” Myungsoo chuckles and then presses a light kiss to Sungyeol’s shoulder before taking a step back and allowing Sungyeol to turn and face him, “Maybe it was an accident.”

 

“That’s what everyone keeps saying, but-” Sungyeol’s eyes meet with Myungsoo’s and he hates that he feels intimidated by someone both younger and shorter, “But Woohyun doesn’t go on the rooftop. Ever.”

 

“And how do you know this?” Myungsoo tilts his head and Sungyeol doesn’t know if the other is playing with him or if he’s sincerely asking the question.

 

“He’s afraid of heights. He never goes to the rooftop, anywhere. He doesn’t even like climbing ladders.”

 

“Is that why I’m a suspect then? Because I don’t know this fun fact?”

 

“No…” Sungyeol bites his bottom lip then ducks his head a little in embarrassment, “I lack evidence, sorry.”

 

Myungsoo chuckles and it’s soft and warm and Sungyeol finds the slightest bit of affection in it. “You know, you shouldn’t even bother with questioning me, detective Sungyeol. I think your investigation should have begun when you went out earlier.”

 

“What are you saying?”

 

“I’m saying, it wasn’t me. But it was clearly someone that could lure your friend out to the rooftop. Someone he trusts, someone that he… Would never figure, would say - push him off?”

 

“Are you sugges-”

 

“Yes,” Myungsoo nods and then points to the pot behind Sungyeol, “The water is boiling over, Sungyeol.”

 

Sungyeol lets out a yelp before quickly turning the fire lower and trying to stir in the noodles without over cooking them, but there’s the lingering thought in his mind and Myungsoo’s eyes watching his every move

  
He can only conclude that it was one of his friend’s that caused Woohyun’s ‘accident'.


	6. Chapter 6

“Could you just sit still for a second?” Sungyeol groans and he’s just about done with Myungsoo.

 

“This is ridiculous, you don’t have a license for this! What if you cut my hair all ugly?” The latter whines and manages to swivel his head just enough that Sungyeol cuts off a strand he hadn’t meant to.

 

“As if you even care what people think of you or your looks,” Sungyeol sighs and places two hands on both sides of Myungsoo’s face so he’ll stop moving.

 

“Then why are we even doing this?”

 

“Because you may not care, but I sure do.”

 

“My prince, are you telling me that you actually care about how I look?” There’s a cheeky look on Myungsoo’s face as he smiles ear to ear.

 

“Oh, shut up before I decide to just shave your head.”

 

-

 

The room is yellowing and completely ancient, dark green wallpaper peeling and the smell of mothballs strong and eminent. Sungyeol swears that he’s been here before, maybe even a million times, but it doesn’t matter because everything seems so old and foreign, as if this room hasn’t been entered in for over fifty years. Blackened boards of wood seal the windows shut from the outside but through the years cracks have appeared and they let little rays of sunshine peek in and Sungyeol can see a boy laying in the middle of the room, dust layered thickly on all the book shelves and his very still body.

 

“Hello?” He asks, cautiously; curiously.

 

When there isn’t a response from the boy laying on the floor, Sungyeol drags his feet across the torn and battered rug, colors and meaning faded. He kneels down and places a hand on the stiff body, turning it just slightly to see the face of the other male; apart of him already expecting the worse.

 

And of course, who else would it be but Myungsoo?

 

Lifeless and blue, hair trimmed and eyes sewed tightly shut, the bright red stitching still fresh and intact.

 

“I’m sorry,” he says below a whisper, wondering why he even feels the need to say so.

 

He hopes this is another horrific dream, because even if it was, the feelings surging throughout his body is very real. The fact that he might actually be the cause of Myungsoo dying is too real as well and it rots Sungyeol from within. It looks like the dead body of Myungsoo has been here for just as long as this room began to deteriorate, but he still looks like himself; young and handsome and completely cold.

 

“I’m so so sorry,” Sungyeol repeats, over and over and the guilt feels heavy, but  _right_  on his shoulders.

 

Maybe it was meant to.

 

-

 

“Do you know why hands and feet are so cold?”

 

Sungyeol pulls his eyes away from the book in his hands, losing complete focus of what he was even reading. “What? Do you mean why  _you’re_  hands and feet are always cold?”

 

“No,” Myungsoo laughs, “You know I’m not the only person in the world whose hands and feet are cold, right?”

 

“Well, I would assume so because you’re far below the average line.”

 

“Very harsh words,” Myungsoo says but isn’t at all affected, “Anyways, do you know why?”

 

“No, I don’t actually. Do you?” Sungyeol knows that Myungsoo’s question was actually leading up to him asking Myungsoo if he knew or not. Of course Myungsoo knows, he wouldn’t have asked in such a way if he didn’t.

 

“It’s because they’re the furthest from the heart,” Myungsoo says, a smile plastered on his face and Sungyeol can’t figure if Myungsoo is trying to be a smart ass or some new sick twisted way of being romantic.

 

“That isn’t the real reason for something so ridiculous, right?”

 

“I don’t know,” Myungsoo shrugs and curls up against Sungyeol’s side, “I’m not a genius or anything.”

 

Being a genius has nothing to do with it but Sungyeol really doesn’t want to argue about that right now, instead he becomes more fixated on Myungsoo beside him and the slight warmth that still emanates from the other even if his toes feel like frostbite knocking at his front door.

 

It’s been two weeks since Sungyeol’s returned and three days since he last made any contact with the outside world. He mostly just stays holed up inside with Myungsoo and he refuses to let the other out. Sungyeol doesn’t think it’s wise for Myungsoo to be out, he can finally feel the air of danger around Myungsoo, finally understands why there is a need to be wary around Myungsoo. The younger knows too much for his age, he knows too much about pain and hurt and loneliness. He knows of all the dark struggles that Sungyeol couldn’t even fathom in his mind.

 

He’s spoken to Sungjong and Dongwoo countlessly over the last two weeks, called and visited them, even dropped by the office once or twice to greet Howon too. It was a stupid plan, he thinks, to go and try to find the files within the main office. Of course those were no longer available, having been transferred when Myungsoo was. Howon’s been aware that that is the reason why Sungyeol even bothers to visit him though, but he’s still relieved to know that Sungyeol’s all in one piece. They’re still somewhat friends afterall.

 

Myungsoo flings an arm over Sungyeol’s chest and Sungyeol notices something strange about Myungsoo’s cold hands and feet that night.

 

-

 

Saturday night is a slow one.

 

Myungsoo sits like a cat on the balcony, taking in the dirty city air and fiddling with an old disposable camera Sungyeol had found laying around under his dresser. Sungyeol didn’t even remember buying the thing, much less leaving it anywhere near his dresser, but Myungsoo had seemed so eager to have it that Sungyeol easily handed it over.

 

At eight o’clock sharp, the news begins to play and Sungyeol half listens to it because he’s still busy trying to figure out if he should go see Sunggyu and Woohyun or not. Of course he feels obliged to go and speak with Sunggyu, whenever he can of course. And his heart has the great urge to stay by Woohyun’s side (but there was Myungsoo, still the small child in his head that needed Sungyeol around to watch over him like a mother hawke) and await the moment his best friend would open his eyes. But it was awkward. It was strange. Sungyeol was afraid to be around Sunggyu and he knew Sunggyu was probably glued to Woohyun’s side at this point too. What he’d give to be in Sunggyu’s shoes.

 

_“You can tell me later.”_

 

Those had been the words that Sunggyu told him and they burned themselves in Sungyeol’s skull. He knew the next time he’d talk to Sunggyu, they’d discuss that.

 

“Turn up the volume.”

 

“Hm?” Sungyeol turns to his right only to see Myungsoo still sitting on the floor of the balcony, his back facing Sungyeol and figure frozen like a statue.

 

“Turn the television volume up,” Myungsoo says again, waiting for Sungyeol to listen.

 

So he clicks the small button on the remote, making the voice of the news anchor increase and his heart nearly stops at what is being said.

 

_“This morning a body was found near an abandoned textile factory in downtown. Police officers are still investigating the crime scene. We advise any civilians to be extra cautious when walking at night in the area.”_

 

Myungsoo scoffs from his spot on the balcony, “All they say is to be extra cautious at night? What nice policemen. I’m sure that will prevent more people from being killed.”

 

-

 

Myungsoo’s thighs are purple and bruised, yellow and red, a spectrum of ugly colors that won’t fade away.

 

Sungyeol traces them with his fingers, bites down on them with his nails, feels the flesh, feels the burn and the pain whenever Myungsoo lets out a groan.

 

_“You’re beautiful.”_

 

Repeats over and over. Like a mantra, a prayer, a broken record.

 

He thrusts himself deeper into Myungsoo, feeling how warm and tight he is inside, Sungyeol can feel all of Myungsoo like this. The younger gasps, wet and needy, wanting more, craving more and Sungyeol obliges to the desperate cries of  _moremoremore_. The sweat between their bodies is slick and everything feels a hundred degrees hotter when Myungsoo’s breath fans over Sungyeol’s cheek, his lips and tongue sliding over Sungyeol’s jawline and mumbling incoherent words.

 

Their hips sway back and forth in unison, Sungyeol’s breathing is ragged and Myungsoo’s throat turns raw from all the cries of unwanted pleasure.

 

Sungyeol wakes up in cold sweat the next morning, breathing hard and trying to forget all the embarrassing moments of his latest dream. It felt real, more real than the other dreams had, but there’s no actual trace of it. No Myungsoo in his bed right now, no marks left on his body, and no voices of desire telling him to want more of it.

 

It’s a dream, he tells himself and then wonders if he can keep up with his own lies.

 

-

 

Dongwoo had been insistent but it was Sungjong and Howon who proved to be the forceful ones.

 

“You need to get out hyung!” Sungjong reasons, “You’re getting pale from the lack of sun.”

 

“But a water park? Seriously, how old do you think I am? Couldn’t we have gone to that coffee place or something.”

 

“It’s ninety degrees out,” Howon laughs, “It’s cooler this way.”

 

“Come on Sungyeol, I’ll race you to the water slides!” Dongwoo hollers and starts running off.

 

“Really? Do I look five?” Sungyeol questions but it doesn’t matter because he too is already running off to try and beat Dongwoo to the water slides.

 

Sungjong sighs and wonders why he’s the maknae when everyone else clearly is much younger than him mentally. “Those two…”

 

“Hey,” Howon suddenly says, his tone not as chipper as before. “Did you tell Sunggyu hyung to come too?”

 

“Yeah,” Sungjong looks a little worried now, “Unfortunately we can’t force him like with Sungyeol hyung. Was it really necessary though?”

 

“I don’t know,” Howon shrugs, “He said he needs to talk to Sungyeol but the other won’t answer his calls.”

 

“You’re very strange hyung. I swear you do whatever Sunggyu hyung says. You’re like his little servant or something.”

 

“Jealous that I’m not your’s?” Howon teases, his voice returning to a light tone.

 

“As if,” Sungjong humphs and begins to trail off towards the water slide, Howon quickly in tow.

 

Sungyeol ends up losing the race and as punishment he’s doomed to having to carry Dongwoo around on his back all day whenever they walk. Howon and Sungjong bicker with Sungyeol and the sun actually does feel nice on his skin and for once in a long time, Sungyeol feels completely relaxed and at ease. They buy all sorts of cold drinks but half of them end up getting poured over Sungjong’s head (“Revenge for that one time you drew a penis on my face!” Sungyeol shouts) but they all know that the younger will concoct an even more humiliating plan to get back at them, but right now they all laugh with light hearts and worry free minds.

 

And then Sunggyu shows up in an oversized shirt (he looks old and lumpy, but he likes oversized shirts) and dark blue swim shorts that have a crappy green rip-off Squirtle on it.

 

“You guys do know you’re all going to die, right?” He says right after Sungjong’s just starting to remember Howon’s favorite stuffed animal is his Krong one.

 

“Hyung!” Dongwoo greets excitedly, “You came! And wow, nice shorts.”

 

“They were all I had,” Sunggyu grumbles before glancing over at Sungyeol who looks away nonchalantly.

 

“Aw come on,” Howon pokes Sungyeol right in between the shoulder blades, “Go kiss and makeup with Sunggyu hyung.”

 

“What!?” Sungyeol hisses, “We didn’t get into a fight or anything.”

 

“Then stop avoiding him like the black plague,” Sungjong says, grabbing both Dongwoo and Howon by the wrists, “We’ll be at the wave pool, come over when you two have reconciled.”

 

“Like I said, it isn’t like that!” Sungyeol shouts after the three who are already leaving, they walk away without even so much as turning their heads back to acknowledge Sungyeol’s defensive cry.

 

“But you are avoiding me, right?” Sunggyu suddenly asks and Sungyeol is reminded that he is now alone with the older man.

 

“Not particularly, no.” He silently huffs to himself and doesn’t try to look Sunggyu in the eyes.

 

“Sungyeol,” Sunggyu sighs, “Don’t be a baby.”

 

“I’m not!” He throws his hands up and then folds them back across his chest, “Anyways… How’s Woohyun?”

 

“Doing fine. He’s stabilized and everything, Sungjong decided I needed a break today from watching over him though. You should visit more if you’re that concerned about him.”

 

“I’d feel useless,” Sungyeol says, staring a hole into the ground, “Besides, you seem to have everything covered anyways.”

 

“Is that why you’re mad at me? You think I’m stealing Woohyun from you or something?”

 

“What?” Sungyeol looks Sunggyu right in the eye. He’s never thought of anything like that before. Woohyun isn’t his and Sunggyu hasn’t stolen anyone. In fact, Sungyeol feels like the stolen one. “No, God no. Look, I’m not mad at you, okay?”

 

“Then why haven’t you been returning my calls or texts?”

 

“Because-”

 

“Is this all about… When you left? Sungyeol you have to let me know what happened to you when you left, you can’t just hide it and-”

 

“Oh my God, please just shut up for a second.” Sungyeol’s rubbing the temples of his head with his fingers and Kim Sunggyu is just so annoying and he hates it whenever the other tries to act like he knows everything and that he has to hold everyone’s secrets and burdens. Sungyeol knows that Sunggyu deserves a much better position than that.

 

So he begins to say, “I’m not mad at you. I swear. I’m literally like, never mad at anyone, I don’t know why people think I’m mad at them and stuff when really, I’m just confused, okay? Between you and I, I don’t know what our friendship is anymore. We’ve never been that close and I know you worry about me, shit, I worry about you a lot too, but it’s just kind of awkward now. I don’t work with you anymore and I don’t know if I’m supposed to call you ‘hyung’ or something because I’ve never had to call you that before either. But I’m fine. I don’t need you to worry over me or help solve my problems anymore. It’s okay, I don’t want to bother you anymore and be this roadblock that you have to keep constantly moving out of the way.

 

When I went missing for those three days. I went to go visit someone, I actually brought them back with me to the city, in fact he’s probably at home watching old reruns of Sailor Moon or something. I can’t tell you about it. It’s personal. It’s something I have to deal with myself and holy shit it’s killing me but I really need to ask you something and I need you to be completely honest with me. Will you be honest with me?”

 

Sunggyu opens his mouth as if to ask something, there’s probably a million questions in his head right now from Sungyeol’s vague explanation, but he knows if he wants the younger to smile and make lame jokes at him again then he’ll have to give in. “Yes, I’ll be honest, just tell me-”

 

“Shush,” Sungyeol places a finger to his lips and then stares Sunggyu straight on. “What were you doing on the day of Woohyun’s accident?”

 

“Are you interrogating me because I’d have to sa-”

 

“I said shush hyung! Just answer the question.”

  
“Sungyeol,” Sunggyu has this sort of damaged look on his face. As if he’s torn from somewhere inside. It makes knots form in the pits of Sungyeol’s stomach. “I can’t tell you that.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I HAVE BEEN A LIAR ABOUT UPDATING THIS FIC HAHA BUT WHAT IS THIS, AN UPDATE, YES!! /garbled noises/ I'm going to be pushing forward and start moving things, because I was taking it too slow before and yeah we were getting nowhere story-wise. There's lots of cuddling at first but I mean the nature of this fic isn't based on cuddles anyways so yeah...I'm sorry for absolutely everything.

"Sungyeol?"

It’s cold, so cold in the house, but the heating has always sucked, so Sungyeol’s never been too surprised whenever he’s shivering under layers of blankets and sweaters. But now there’s Myungsoo and his presence is always either too draining or completely rejuvenating. His arms that slip instinctively around Sungyeol’s waist feel warm for the first time and his breath on the back of Sungyeol’s neck is sweltering with comfort and familiarity that Sungyeol nearly melts into Myungsoo.

"Are you okay?" Asks Myungsoo, he’s never sounded more grounded than before. More secure and in control than Sungyeol.

His mouth opens, only a fraction, enough to let a coin slip in his mouth like the opening to a piggy bank. He nearly announces to Myungsoo that he feels fine, just restless, but he figures if Myungsoo is willing to be truthful with Sungyeol, then what’s the harm of him voicing the truth every now and then too?

"I’m afraid," says Sungyeol, voice so tiny and barely audible, he’s thankful Myungsoo is close enough to hear though.

"Afraid of what?" He asks and draws closer, his chest pressed right up against Sungyeol’s back. They fit well together like this, Sungyeol briefly thinks, like two puzzle pieces both meant for a different puzzle.

"Everything,” he says softly.

The hum from Myungsoo vibrates down Sungyeol’s spine and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t soothe him in the warmest way possible. “Don’t be afraid, silly. I’m here.”

And Sungyeol doesn’t know if he’s supposed to laugh or not because Myungsoo is most likely the root of his problems, but Sungyeol can’t find it in his heart to send the poor boy back to Jiyeon’s, especially not after Sungyeol’s recent attachment to the other. At this point he isn’t even sure if he’d be able to sleep alone in a bed anymore.

“Really," Myungsoo says, "I'm here."

-

There has always been the insistent need to touch for Myungsoo. Nothing else compares to the exhilaration he gets from touching someone, the feel of their skin, the pulse of blood moving through their veins; everything about touching has always been what Myungsoo has craved most.

What Myungsoo had not been expecting was for Sungyeol to respond. He didn’t think arms would find their way around his waist, hold him, tremble around him, and that for once, Myungsoo was in charge. There’s a voice -- _not his voice_ \-- but a voice that sounds sweet when Myungsoo recalls it and it picks at the back of his head when Sungyeol’s own small voice comes in a shaking whisper. He nods, only because he can’t find his own words to answer with, because it’s always hard to find the proper vocals to express to Sungyeol, because sometimes Myungsoo knows how much silence is valued.

There’s a softness to Sungyeol’s touch, something that Myungsoo’s never known and it lights him from the inside out. He figures he could be beaming, that through the dark he could be shinning and is that what Sungyeol sees him as? A light? A star? Something hopeful to hold onto? Is this why Sungyeol hasn’t thrown him away yet?

And it scares Myungsoo. He doesn’t want to be thrown away, has never wanted to be _alone_. He worries that Sungyeol will get tired of him (that Sungyeol is afraid of him) and that Sungyeol won’t want something _dirty_ like Myungsoo. There have been one too many times where Myungsoo will sit on the floor and think he’s done something wrong, that he’s made a mistake somewhere in his life and that this is all just punishment, putting him in an eternal state of fear.

But right now, he has all the power. He’s bathed in it, like honey lathered over his physical existence, he’s glowing with delight at the fact that Sungyeol is _melting_ around him.

It was calculated, Mungsoo grins at his win. Cold nights of Myungsoo attaching himself to Sungyeol have payed off. The other can’t be without the familiar coolness of Myungsoo’s skin against his and his grin only gets wider as he places his fingers atop Sungyeol’s.

He’s won in every way.

-

Sungyeol wishes everything was nothing more than a fever induced dream, it would explain so much -- all the emotions and actions, all the pain and worry he caused for everyone -- but it isn’t and there really is no way to explain the way Sungyeol wakes up in the middle of the night, abandoned on his living room floor with no one beside him and nothing to assure him that Myungsoo’s entire existence is real. There’s a gaping hole in his chest and he can claw and claw at it all he wants as unwanted sobs break through his voice. He’s never felt such hurt before.

The entire apartment is empty, there’s nothing but what was always his in there.

He can’t bring himself to look through his cell phone right now, maybe if he wasn’t feeling so broken right now, he’d be able to call Sungjong -- ask him questions and make demands -- there’s nothing but the silence in his apartment and the soft hum of traffic right outside. Sungyeol feels like screaming, but his throat is so raw from choking down his cries.

Where is Myungsoo?

-

The coffee in his hands tastes even more bitter than Sungjong can remember, but he doesn’t drink coffee often so it isn’t something he’s really concerned about. Instead he focuses on his phone, only a few sips taken from the cup in his hand, his other hand absorbed in scrolling through the previous texts exchanged with Sungyeol, the urgency in them conveying even through Sungyeol’s messily typed out messages. It’s been awhile since he’s last seen him, since anyone has really, Sungjong had been expectant that their last meeting would result in more Sungyeol, but after witnessing the crestfallen look on his face after he had spoken to Sunggyu sure placed the seed of doubt in Sungjong that Sungyeol was thoroughly done with them all. 

Except for a few hours ago when he received an alarming stream of texts from Sungyeol, that was when Sungjong had offered to meet him at the shady little cafe around the corner from Sungjong’s apartment.

It takes Sungyeol almost an hour, but right before Sungjong’s become fed up, the bell chime from the front door alerts Sungjong.

“Hyung, what--” Sungjong stops his sentence because the way Sungyeol looks is absolutely horrific. He’s seen Sungyeol on his bad days, seen him looking down with sadness and with the color drained out of his face from _blood loss_ , but he’s never seen him like this. His eyes are red, face pale and patchy as if he’s been rubbing at it. Everything about Sungyeol is so ragged and so, so -- _broken_.

Sungyeol takes the seat in front of him, hands shaking wildly as he runs them through his hair, a shuddery breath escaping his lips in a tired sigh. He tries to smile at Sungjong, but it comes out strained and all wrong, so Sungjong pulls his hands forward and grabs at Sungyeol’s, holding them with a squeeze. “Hyung, what happened?”

“I--” Sungyeol purses his lips and suppresses a hiccup. “I lost him, Sungjong. I-I can’t find him.”

“What are you talking about? Who did you lose?”

“Myungsoo. He’s gone. I can’t find him.”

Myungsoo? Sungjong wracks his brain to recall the name; a patient. He was a patient, not too long ago if Sungjong remembers correctly, but just long enough that the name should carry no importance. He squeezes Sungyeol’s hand again. “Sungyeol hyung, he’s _been_ gone--”

“No. I brought him here. I was with him. He was here. With me,” Sungyeol rambles, eyes darting back and forth between Sungjong and their hands. “I lost him.”

He sounds insane. Sungjong can’t place another word on it (maybe crazy, mental, delusional--) but Sungyeol looks absolutely sure, positive that Myungsoo was just here and that Sungyeol has lost him, he won’t stop saying that.

“Okay,” Sungjong says, voice very clear. “Okay, hyung. Let’s go and… Let’s go and find him, then.”

This time when Sungyeol tries to smile, it’s a little more genuine -- _a lot more desperate._

-

Some rivulets of red are dripping from Myungsoo’s face. _Drip. Drip. Drip._

He doesn’t know where he is. He can’t see or smell anything. It’s dark, there’s a cloth tied around his eyes and the familiar sensation of _trouble_ brewing all around him. He’s been in this situation before, completely vulnerable and thrown into open waters. There’s a pounding on his head and his senses fight to keep him awake longer.

Footsteps approach, but maybe he’s imagining they are because there’s no one else here but him. Seconds, minutes, hours pass by and he’s painfully alone. The rest of his body is so numb, it’s as if only his mind is awake while everything else refuses to move.

It’s his own body and he’s never even been in control of it. The thought alone is enough to make him want to laugh, but he can’t right now, the situation doesn’t call for it and he doesn’t want to make a noise if he knows he can’t be heard anyways. So, he lays in silence, skin callous and heart beating slowly, nervously in his chest. He doesn’t know what’s going to happen now, but there is one thing he is sure of and that is the want for Sungyeol.

-

This time when Sungyeol wakes up, he’s got a better hold on himself than before, embarrassment painting his cheeks as he realizes all that he’s put Sungjong to, the younger is knocked out on his couch. Sungyeol feels guilty, as he should. He’s selfish and he’s become a much bigger burden than intended, but he couldn’t help it, he had broke down and needed someone -- someone who would at the same time offer help, but wouldn’t get him into anymore trouble than he already was with Sunggyu. It’s childish, dancing around Sunggyu like a child does when they’re sneaking out past curfew, but he can’t help it. Sunggyu has become an enigma to Sungyeol, more so than before and when he so badly needs Woohyun, the other is as good as an invalid in this case.

There’s a moment of slight panic when Sungyeol wonders if Myungsoo maybe just left -- just walked out and left Sungyeol. It’s ridiculous he tells himself, both things are ridiculous; him needing Myungsoo this much and Myungsoo deciding to leave Sungyeol right after declaring his very presence in Sungyeol’s life. Ridiculous.

“Hyung,” Sungjong says sleepily, eyes open and hair pushed out of his face. “Hyung, have you slept at all?”

“No,” Sungyeol says. His voice is still hoarse, but he’s figured he needs to be talking, needs to be hearing his own words instead of just Sungjong’s reassurances.

Sungjong sits up at that, leaning towards Sungyeol to pull him into his arms, holding him like he’ll break apart from the contact. It’s so weird, Sungyeol is the older one, he’s not supposed to be having Sungjong take so much care of him. “Hyung, you’ve got to rest.”

It isn’t that easy though, Sungyeol _can’t_. He may have Sungjong’s arms around him and it’s the safest he’s felt in hours, but it isn’t what his body is used to -- what it craves. He finds that his body won’t fully relax unless it’s in someone’s arms, specifically Myungsoo’s. How has he become so reliant so soon? As if he cannot remember what it was like without Myungsoo invading every inch of his skin with his own, sewing them together like two sheets in a quilt. Sungyeol really is losing too many of his marbles now.

“Sungjong, I can’t,” he says simply. “I just can’t.” But oh, how he wants to.

And there it is, Sungjong’s demeanor seems to fall apart and small beads of tears slide down his face, he rubs them away and holds Sungyeol even tighter in his arms. This is all Sungyeol’s fault. He’s made _Sungjong_ cry and he can’t even bring himself to comfort the younger back. Sungyeol is just so so selfish.

-

This time when Myungsoo hears footsteps coming to him, it’s real.

He hold his breath in, an inkling of who it is starts to form in his mind when he hears the soft melody of a tune being hummed out. He doesn’t dare say the name aloud, but he wants to, he wants to ask so badly.

The humming stops. “Here you are princess,” a voice says. “Right where I left you.”

Myungsoo’s fears have become a reality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still so sorry. I have another update coming soon though!! to make up for stuff, but I feel like I'm just going to be apologizing for the next update too h a h a ha. I know I'm a big black hole of lies, but trust me I have at least half of the next update ready. 
> 
> I also wanna take this time to thank three people who have encouraged me to continue writing this mess of a fic: won, rui, and stacy. won made me promise to finish!! I always think of rui when I write this fic bcus I know she wants me to finish too *^* and recently stacy has reminded me of how much I actually sort of enjoy everything about this fic, so thanks you guys ;u;


	8. Chapter 8

They’re running on a school track, Sungyeol doesn’t remember why, but he’s pretty sure it has to do with passing gym. He’s always hated gym, but it’s Woohyun who pats his back as he passes him, grinning that familiar grin and encouraging him to go on, so he does. Part way through, when he’s so sure he’s near the finish line, his surroundings shift and he’s out of breath, standing on the rooftop of some building, watching the breeze sway through the branches of some nearby trees. Woohyun is there too, he’s smiling, warm and comfortable, the pits in Sungyeol’s stomach screaming against all odds that this is  _wrong_ , he’s in the wrong place. Hands shoot out of nowhere, Woohyun is falling, Sungyeol is trying to catch him, only to find he’s the one who pushed.

Time stops for a moment there, but then the scene fades black, a horrified smile is left imprinted in Sungyeol’s mind. He feels like he’s blacked out, but when he comes to, he’s in that old house again. The one with the boarded windows and dusted walls. It smells the same, almost relaxed to him, but that’s not how it should feel. Sungyeol should be terrified, trying to run away. His legs move on their own, closer and closer, deeper and deeper, he goes in. There’s a strange dent under the rug, so he moves it, the action a little too familiar for him. It’s a hidden hatch, leading even further down into the Earth, Sungyeol reaches for it, but grasps at nothing as he is suddenly laying on the beach with Myungsoo’s head in his lap.

“Myungsoo?” He asks in a mumble, eyes trained on the beautiful boy looking up at him.

But there isn’t an answer, things move too fast again and Sungyeol’s in the coffee shop with Sungjong this time, hands being held as his dongsaeng looks at him as if he’s gone off the deep end. Sungyeol knows he hasn’t though, he’s just worried, concerned because Myungsoo is  _missing_. He’s not crazy, he isn’t. He screams. Everything shifts.

Before him lies a body, it isn’t the one he’s accustomed to seeing in his dreams, but it’s a lifeless one alright. When he moves to inspect it, he almost lets out another scream. It’s female, he can’t tell who it is, her face has been clawed, eyes gouged out and flesh torn open in heaping chunks. There’s warm blood everywhere, her chest open and letting pools of it pour out, almost endlessly. Sungyeol takes a step back, red all over his clothes and hands and he’s shaking so hard that he thinks he’ll never stop. He slams his eyes shut and rocks back and forth on his heels, terror filling all his nerves.

When Sungyeol wakes up, he’s not alone, but oh, oh how he feels like he is.

Sungjong is beside him, protective arm thrown over his shoulder and Sungyeol sucks in a sharp breath. It’s wrong, it’s all wrong. He slips out of the other’s embrace carefully and manages to get free, though Sungjong stirs in his sleep. It’s already six in the morning, Sungyeol’s only slept for an hour, but his mind feels like it hasn’t rested at all, images flashing through faster than he can sort.

Sungyeol’s eyes are tired and probably red, but he rubs at them anyways in an attempt to somewhat clarify things. He briefly wonders where absolutely everything went wrong.

-

Sometimes it’s a harsh voice, icey and noxious, stabbing at Myungsoo with words never meant for him to hear. Other times is a voice that’s thick and sweet like honey, telling him precious lies that churn his stomach and make him want to vomit. Never is it the voice he wants to hear the most. At one point, he thought he was going to die, but the thought didn’t offer much entertainment as the Harsh Voice had said he wasn’t worth it. The Honey Voice said it was because he was important and needed, which sounded like hope at first, but it deflated quickly when Myungsoo came to the conclusion that neither voices could be trusted. At least he became certain that he would live, for now at least.

“You’re the reason this has all happened,” says the Harsh Voice, scrapping at something and Myungsoo can hear the metallic sound of it. “Everything was okay before you. There wasn’t a need for me for so long, we were all safe.  _He_ was safe. But you came. You came and you stirred things around him, made him weak and made those around him dangerous. We couldn’t let that happen.”

He doesn’t know what the Harsh Voice is talking about, Myungsoo hasn’t done anything. His own voice refuses to speak up in his defence though.

“I wish it could be the three of us again,” Harsh Voice says wistfully, “But it can’t. I have to include you now too, account for your safety. Such a hassle, really.”

Myungsoo wouldn’t exactly call the position he’s currently in to be  _safe_ , he’s tied up, body worn and vision obscured in a completely foreign room. He doesn’t feel the least bit safe here. The Harsh Voice begins to continue his one-man conversation, ignoring Myungsoo’s silent concerns.

“You have to understand, princess. I had to do this, I had to take you away. He was getting too attached to you, unhealthily so. These types of things have to be done in moderation, you know? All your plans, your scheming and manipulating, it was working a little too well, more than what we agreed upon. You didn’t keep to your end of the deal, so this is your punishment. Learn well.”

Myungsoo swallows dryly. If this is his punishment, he wonders what kind of hell Sungyeol is going through.

-

The ramyun in Howon’s mouth tastes disgustingly sour, like it’s lost it’s appeal after he’s relied on it since he was in college and couldn’t afford anything else to keep his body going when he only had the budget of a middle-class, Busan-grown boy. He forces it down though, because he needs to eat and it’s all he has right now, the emptiness of his fridge constantly taunting him about the life he’s given up in order to cater to two-hundred patients in a hospital. It’s tiring, everything is, but he manages to put his pants on one leg at a time every morning.

He’s just about to head out for said job, until there’s a loud banging coming from his front door. Howon is precarious as always, looking through the peep hole and getting an eye full of Sungyeol. He looks like crap, like he’s been dragged through the depths of tartarus and back, only to be discarded on the devil’s front doorstep –  _Howon’s front doorstep_.

But, he can’t just leave Sungyeol out there, scaring his neighbors, so he pulls the latch open and lets the other in, Sungyeol’s eyes flicker everywhere and he looks small for once, it’s startling to Howon.

“What are you doing here?” He asks, tilting his head at the other as he closes the door and leads him more inward. “It’s really early.”

“Come to my place,” Sungyeol mumbles. “Right now. Sungjong’s there. I can’t stay there anymore – here either, anywhere really.”

Howon’s eyes widen and his mouth opens to protest all that and ask Sungyeol just who the hell does he think he is, but there’s something pleading in the other’s tone, in the way he fumbles with his hands and bites his bottom lip so anxiously. He’s desperate.

“Please,” says Sungyeol, a hitch in his voice. “Just go there, please. Tell Sungjong I’m sorry – for everything. There’s a key under the light fixture.”

“Woah, Sungyeol, what are you saying? Sorry? Sorry about what?” Howon’s hands come to brace Sungyeol’s shoulders and real concern has begun to sink in. What the fuck is Sungyeol saying to him right now?

“Everything. I just said it,” Sungyeol grumbles. He looks torn between taking a step back or leaning into Howon’s touch. He settles for standing completely still.

“Are you going somewhere? Are you leaving again?” Howon quickly asks, his words becoming more and more rushed. “Don’t be stupid Sungyeol, just talk to us. Let us understand, please–”

“I’m the one begging you right now,” Sungyeol interrupts, “Howon. Listen to me for once.”

And this time, he figures he’s the stupid one now. He lets Sungyeol go. A little too easily. But completely broken hearted. They were never super close, Howon wouldn’t call Sungyeol his best friend, but a  _friend_ , yes. He cares about him, he truly does. Sungyeol is someone who’s always been known to Howon as light, carefree, someone he could look to for jokes and playful jabs. Not this, not this insanity, this insistent prickling of concern and uselessness. Howon spends twenty hours a day handling two-hundred patients, but it’s _Lee Sungyeol_  who makes him feel useless. How ironic.

Before Sungyeol leaves, he takes one hard look at Howon and mumbles softly, “I’m sorry.”

-

The sound of the clock is painfully loud in Sungyeol’s ears, but he ignores it as he pushes forward. He’s tried to make peace with everything, but maybe he still feels so unsettled because he hadn’t necessarily said goodbye to anyone.

It  _isn’t_  a goodbye, he reminds himself. He intends to come back.

-

Howon has never really been all that invested in the lives of the people surrounding him, only toeing into those things, listening but not really hearing anything. He’s practically clueless about everything, choosing only to process what Sunggyu has told him – about Sungyeol, about Myungsoo, about everyone. Howon’s tight circle of friends hardly includes enough people to make a proper circle, it’s just really Sungjong. Of course, he’s always cared about the others, enjoyed their company, but that doesn’t compare to when he’s with Sungjong. There’s something different about that boy –  _sturdiness, strength,_   ** _something_**  – that causes Howon to be drawn like a moth to flame. He met Sungjong when he first was transferred to the institute, Sungjong was practically a fetus then, only volunteering because his elder sister was a full time doctor and he needed to waste time anywhere else but back alleys and shady corners. The years pushed them together, brought them closer when Howon dated his sister, they broke up eventually, when she died that is.

It’s painful, it truly is, whenever Howon has to look at Sungjong and face the ghost of his sister.

“He left, didn’t he,” Sungjong asks, nothing more but a hollow shell and Howon has to watch as the wind passes right through him. He doesn’t answer Sungjong, only because there isn’t anything to answer, of course Sungyeol has left, his apartment is empty and he’s said his farewells. Howon finds himself staring idly at the little lego figures Sungyeol has decorating his television shelf, he remembers when Dongwoo had bought them because Sungyeol’s apartment had just seemed so lonely. It’s lonelier still, nothing but the sound of Sungjong breathing in and out in laboured breaths, crying most likely.

“He said sorry,” Howon says to fill the empty space between them, afraid that he might just get consumed in it. Sungjong wipes uselessly at his face, tears streaming down almost child-like and Howon is reminded of just how much younger the other really is. He’s an adult now, but Howon will always see him as the  _little brother_. “Let’s go, it smells here.”

-

His eyes so badly want to give in, to flutter shut and allow his brain rest, but Myungsoo fights against it, the Honey Voice speaking softly to him this time.

“Oh, princess. We’ll have so much fun in the future. Can you imagine it? Being happy?” Honey Voice asks, a hand reaches down to ruffle Myungsoo’s hair. The sickly sweet contact makes him retch.

“That isn’t very nice, you know? You should be excited that I’m here to visit you.”

He lets out a puff of breath in the form of a scoff. Myungsoo can’t find it in him to be excited about any of this.

“You’re a lot more bold around me, I guess that’s a good thing. You’re comfortable, right? With me?” The Honey Voice coos and then Myungsoo can hear them stand to leave. “Go to sleep. When you wake up, you won’t be here anymore.”

Like a command, Myungsoo’s brain begins to shut down, he can feel the exhaustion finally consume him after spending hours just creeping around. He doesn’t want to sleep, but he can’t help the drowsiness as it takes him over, the sound of the Honey Voice has completely left, he knows he’s finally alone, but it just makes his skin prick even more. Myungsoo can’t bear the weight of being alone, but sleep is just seconds away and it drowns him in a flood.

True to their word, when Myungsoo’s eyes open next, he’s outside, sunlight hitting him hard and the heat sinks into his skin like a bite. He swallows thickly, throat dry and lips cracked, his body suddenly swaying forward as someone lifts him. It’s a male, someone he doesn’t know, but doesn’t care to find out, his brain is muddled, like he’s been drugged and the thought doesn’t leave his mind until he’s brought inside the nearest building. The room is cool and soothes Myungsoo’s red skin, the black of his clothes had absorbed too much and he regrets it but doesn’t truly mind. The sweater he’s in belongs to Sungyeol after all.

“Take him to his room,” instructs a voice and it isn’t harsh nor lathered in honey. It’s Jiyeon.

Of all the places to wind back up at.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> /looks at photos of sungyeol to energize me to write this brief update/
> 
> anyways, the end of this fic is near and the only reason why dongwoo is so excluded is bcus he is a ball of beautiful joy and i cannot ruin him no matter what. i just. can't.

More than what he would honestly like, Sungjong is embarrassed. He’s cried before, most often in front of Howon, but that was when he was a _child_. He isn’t a child anymore, he knows this, sees it when he looks in the mirror and no longer see the pubescent teen who would voluntarily look for trouble. He’s matured, grown into his facial features and finally knows what angle to stand at to make him look imposing and striking to others, to inflict the correct emotions when needed to. Now, he just feels weak, aged down by ten years even. The days pass almost solemnly so, Howon still going to work, an obligation that Sungjong has retired from, pulling out his vacation days and knowing full well that Dongwoo is going to be overrun with things, but there are on-call workers that they can depend on, more so than they can with Sungjong at least.

“He’ll be okay,” Howon tells him one night when the two are eating a sad dinner of ramyun. Sungjong hasn’t been to his own home since Sungyeol has left.

Howon’s words are pointless, they don’t mean anything to the Sungjong of right now. Maybe a few days ago they would have caused hope to swell in his chest, but Sungjong has recovered from all that, reverted to his usual indifference. The rest of the night is silent, the occasional grumble here and there from Howon and it isn’t until Sungjong finds himself flipping through channels that he nearly has a heart attack when a familiar face pops up on the screen.

“ _Police are currently on the look out for Lee Sungyeol, suspected for the murder of twenty-eight year old Park Soyeon. Investigations are currently underway as we urge citizens to call in any reports or sightings of the suspect_.”

The gasp Sungjong lets out resounds loud and clear, Howon having dropped his pen from his desk to stare at the other. “What is it?”

“Hyung,” Sungjong mumbles out, “It’s Sungyeol hyung, they– he’s being searched for, for murder.”

Immediately, the other stops all that he’s doing, rushing over to the television as his eyes scan widely across the screen, reading the headlines and trying to wrack his brain for any plausible answer. Almost with an insistent need to _know_ , Sungjong exasperates, “Do you think this is why he– why he left?”

There’s a sharp stabbing in Sungjong’s chest once the words leave his mouth. He hadn’t meant it like that and he almost feels childish once more in the presence of Howon whose eyes have narrowed dangerously at Sungjong. Of course this isn’t why Sungyeol has left them, as if he could be capable of– of murder. He shakes his head as soon as he can, shaking the words off as well, remembering just who it is he’s talking to. He needs to show a stronger face in front of Howon. “Right. It couldn’t have been. This is just some misunderstanding.”

“It has to be,” says Howon, returning his attention to the television. Sungjong can see the tense lines in his back.

Moments later they receive a worried call from Dongwoo and Sungjong remains calm enough to talk through it, to make sure that Dongwoo doesn’t burst into tears over the line.

Sunggyu and Woohyun remain silent in the situation..

-

When Myungsoo is fully woken, there is an unexplainable pain in his waist, causing him to almost lurch over the bed. His eyes are puffy, making it hard for him to see where it is he’s at exactly. There’s a soft ray of sunlight filtering through the window, curtains opened wide and exposing Myungsoo to the outside. He practically hates it.  

“You’re awake,” comes the soft voice. Jiyeon’s voice. “Don’t move, you’ve got a giant bruise staining your mid section.”

Myungsoo is obedient, feeling the pain still crawling through him and it makes him feel so broken, much more than anything else in the world has ever. Jiyeon twists idly at a strand of her hair, looking quite desperate to reach out and card through Myungsoo’s, but his expression is guarded and icy, drawing her away from him. “What am I doing here?”

“You were dropped off,” she replies immediately, eyes flickering all around the room nervously. “Half alive.”

It doesn’t sound untruthful, Myungsoo’s mind is still able to recall his last few conscious moments, the two voices still clear in his pitch black memory. His mouth is so parched and his skin feels like it’s simply just hanging on his bones now, Myungsoo concludes he probably looks worse than he should. Imagine if Sungyeol were to see him now. Without really meaning to, he lets out a breathy sound, somewhere in between a broken sob and a dry laugh. Jiyeon startles, but settles easily again when she sees just how pained Myungsoo’s expression is. He’s such a poor creature.

“We need to discuss what’s in the basement,” she says moments later when Myungsoo’s laughter has died down. “Before it’s too late.”

“I don’t understand what you’re talking about,” Myungsoo snorts. He really doesn’t know what she means, but he has an idea of sorts.

“You know this place, you were here long before I lived here,” she mumbles softly, biting on the pink flesh of her lip. “I just want to know _who’s_ in there–”

“Did you go down there?” Myungsoo interrupts, tone sharp.

“N-No,” she stutters out, completely taken aback. She fiddles with her hair even more.

Myungsoo’s eyes are cold, a blizzard so intense they burn right into Jiyeon, causing her to look straight down at the floor instead. An aura of danger emits from him, warning her off and if he weren’t in such a weakened state, he would be standing, directing all of it’s malice towards her.

“ _Don’t go into the basement_.”

-

Sungyeol is running again, but it seems that’s all he does recently. Always running, watching helplessly as the floor beneath his feet always breaks away and crumbles, causing him to fall into memories that he doesn’t want to recall.

There’s a voice ringing wherever he goes and it only gets louder the further away he runs from it.

Over and over again it repeats the same words, cursing Sungyeol.

Screams of horror, followed by drowning.

“ _Stop!_

_Please stop!_

_Why are you doing this?!_

_I don’t want to die_.”

-

The prospect of what Sungjong is going to ask for is probably too much, but the anxiety has to eating away at Howon too, so he doesn’t hold back when he brings it up.

“I did some research on Sungyeol hyung.”

“ _What?_ ” Howon nearly spits out, thick brows furrowed deeply.

Sungjong knows just how much Howon intends to stay out of this, how he wants to keep one foot in while the other is sawed off and thrown as far away from this as possible. However, it’s too late, Howon has been as involved as anyone could possibly be, all from simply knowing Lee Sungyeol.

“I went through his personal files– from work,” Sungjong admits easily. He only takes a brief moment to look at Howon’s perplexed expression. “I found out he has no family.”

Howon doesn’t move, he instead remains frozen like a statue, face still very upset, but slightly calm, as if he’s thinking something through. Sungjong continues, “I didn’t know that before. I searched into it more and his medical records showed up and I–”

“I know,” Howon says finally, stopping Sungjong. “I _know_.”

“You know?” Sungjong snaps, suddenly feeling very hot. “You knew and you didn’t say anything?”

“Sunggyu hyung told me,” he divulges, “before Sungyeol quit. He told me.”

Something white ignites in Sungjong and he feels very betrayed, left completely in the dark almost at the realization. Of course, he expects something like this from Sunggyu, the hyung who hides so much, who bears too much weight on his shoulders. But, Howon. That’s a different story all in it’s own. “Why the fuck didn’t you say anything to me?”

“It wasn’t your place to know,” Howon clarifies, voice very hard and firm. His arms cross and he talks down to Sungjong as if the other were still sixteen. “And it still isn’t.”

“Not my place to know? How is it not my place to know? I’m friends with Sungyeol hyung too, aren’t I? I’ve known him for years and been by his side long enough and it isn’t my place to know?”

“That’s exactly why it isn’t your place, you view him too much as a _friend_ , Sungjong. You’re naive, you wouldn’t have been able to handle the truth. You would have broke down and cried, you’re just a child–”

His sentence is cut off short when the fury within Sungjong erupts at full force, he grabs Howon’s collar, pulling him flush against his body as he presses a hard kiss against the other’s lips, practically slamming into him. Before Howon even has a chance to retaliate, Sungjong shoves him away from his body, raising a fist to deliver a not so gentle blow to the side Howon’s face. It’s infuriating, everything about Howon is _infuriating_ to Sungjong. “I’m not a child!” He spits, heaving out heavy, angry breaths as he stares down at Howon, who has fallen to the floor in a stupor.

The other male doesn’t rise and it’s moments of heated silence as Sungjong refuses to apologize or offer a helping hand. He’s pissed.

“You’re right,” says Howon after a heartbeat. His hand rests on the spot where Sungjong hit him, refusing to touch where Sungjong kissed him. “You’re not a child. It doesn’t mean I wouldn’t have told you anything anyways.”

There is a need somewhere deep within Howon, a need to protect what is dear to him, but Sungjong remains even more blind to that aspect than he ever has before.

-

It’s the middle of the night when Woohyun opens his eyes.

He looks wrecked, as does Sunggyu who hasn’t properly been home in days, the nurses of the hospital too full of pity to force him away. It’s refreshing almost and nothing like Sunggyu envisioned it to be, they wind up laughing, raucously enough to wake up the three other patients that Woohyun is rooming with. After managing to apologize (and breathe again) Sunggyu makes sure to call a nurse in, more personal rush in causing lights to flash on and soon the whole room is wide awake and Sunggyu isn’t going to apologize for that.

Woohyun is, for the most part, okay. He’s lost weight (which he jokes about not having to go on that diet) and has a pretty wild beard growing (it’s more like stubble, but Sunggyu envisions a forest) and there are wrinkles pulling on his face, which look unattractive as hell but Sunggyu shuts up about that.

“Ridiculous,” Woohyun sighs when he gets the chance, after everything has settled and it’s just him and Sunggyu again, boxed in by the pale green hospital curtains. He drags a tired hand down his face, lips stained red from the cranberry juice he was forced to drink. “I can’t believe I’m alive.”

“Well,” Sunggyu snorts, “I can’t either.”

“I can’t believe you are too,” Woohyun says, eyes narrowed at the other. It’s playful and so Sunggyu smiles thinly at him.

“You alright?”

“You’ve asked that like fifty times since I woke up, the answer is still the same.”

Sunggyu purses his lips at Woohyun’s indignance. “Just being the amazing hyung I am and making sure–”

“Is Sungyeol here?”

The question throws Sunggyu off, _way off_. He had been expectant of any Sungyeol related questions, but not this early – _then again it is Nam Woohyun_. “I– No. He’s not. He’s probably at home, waiting for a call or something.”

“Oh,” he says softly, almost deflated, like he wanted to see Sungyeol instead of Sunggyu. It hurts, almost, but in a sick sort of way that Sunggyu is not willing to own up to.

“He was extremely worried though, called a lot a few weeks ago. He’s most likely moping and what not at home, afraid I’ll bite him or something.”

Woohyun chuckles almost breathlessly at that. “Stop scaring, God.”

“It’s his fault for always being so timid,” Sunggyu says fondly. He looks down at Woohyun to see the other looking sober– _torn_. Something immediately tightens in Sunggyu’s chest.

“It was– you know it was him, right?” Woohyun seems to choke out the words, unsure of what it is he’s truly saying.

“Yeah. I knew. It was him.” They sound even more strange from Sunggyu’s tongue, for him to admit to someone what he already knew, what he was hiding for so long, what he will continue to hide.

“I mean, it was definitely him, you know? But then again it was definitely _not_ him and I’m so confused because it was Sungyeol who–”

“No, I understand,” Sunggyu cuts him off so Woohyun doesn’t have to go through the pain of voicing it himself. “It was Sungyeol who pushed you.”

-

One, two, three.

The clock strikes directly on the hour and Sungyeol feels a warm liquid pooling in his cupped hands. Fear is what causes him to tremble and even more so, the adrenaline still pumping through his veins that he has no understanding of. A soft thud causes him to look downwards, a head full of long beautiful hair lolling at his feet. He vomits at the sight, emptying out nothing but saliva and acid, his throat burning harshly.

Jiyeon is dead. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it isn't proofread, so pardon any mistakes.


End file.
